We Live to Die Another Day
by Sexy-Foxface
Summary: No one ever thinks death will come. No one ever really realizes the darkness of the world. No one was ever suspecting this. The 122nd Annual Hunger Games; 24 go in, but only one will have the honor of winning. The strong one crumbled. The one who had everything together fell to pieces. The unbreakable one broke. The quiet one screamed inside. No one is safe; not even the innocent.
1. There Will Be Bloodshed

**Hey guys its Zoey I know I had this posted before, but I had to take it down for awhile. Some changes have been made and I shouldn't have anymore issues. Tributes are only to be sent in by PM and if you haven't done so, but have already claimed a spot send me your tribute soon ^^**

**There is a maximum of submitting two tributes per person! And please no Sue's because I will make sure they die brutally and that is a promise. **

The buzz of excitement floods the room as ideas are shot back and forth between the Gamemakers. "We need to top last year's Games. Everyone who watched them loved the levels arena. From the level with the fears to the hall of mirrors it was brilliant!" Head Gamemaker Jeremiah smiles proudly at the success of the previous Games. He now desires to make these Games even better. Ideas are shot across the room as arena ideas are formulated. This was their job to set up twenty three young men and woman to die for their entertainment; as a symbol to show that the Capitol will forever rein power over Panem.

With the outline for the arena drawn up the Gamemakers begin to discuss the events of the previous games. "I think the goriest death last year was when the girl from District 10 was blown sky high. I swear there was pieces of her strewn all over the arena," A woman with bright pink hair states.

"I have to disagree with you on that one Lyra; the goriest death had to have been when the District 2 boy scalped his District partner when she was sleeping. Betrayal in its prime," Davidson an experienced Gamemaker says to the group. He has been a part of the process of the Games for many years now; bloodshed was not new to him. In his eyes he has seen almost every possible way for a tribute to die: starvation, thirst, ripped to shred by mutation, drowning, burned alive, slit throat, poisoned and the list goes on.

With the buzz of excitement never once leaving the room as the anticipation of the reapings slowly crept closer one thing was for certain; no tribute would be safe from the horrors that would lurk in the arena.

Tribute form

Name: (Full name please)

Age:

Gender:

District: (Please put your top three choices and if you pick a career they will automatically be put into an alliance with the other careers unless you tell me to have them go alone, or put into a different alliance)

Personality: (Now this is where you need to be extremely detailed)

Appearance: (Again please de detailed)

Reaped/Volunteered:

If volunteered why?:

If reaped what is their reaction/why?:

Family:

Friends:

A little history:

Reaping Outfit:

Chariot Outfit: (If you can't think of one it's fine)

Interview Outfit:

Interview Angle:

Training Score (And how they got that score?):

Mentor:

What is their opinion about the Capitol?:

Interview quote:

Would they want to be a part of an alliance?:

Would they be up for a romance?:

Game strategy:

There is a large chance your tribute will perish what is your preferred way (There is no guarantee this will happen though):

Arena ideas:

Character Physical Strengths (Not more then 4):

Character Mental Strength:

Character Weaknesses (At least 3):

Weapon of Choice:

Fatal Flaw:

Worst Fear:

District token:

**Sponsor Points: **

**At the end of each chapter there will be a sponsor question that if answered correctly will earn you extra points.**

Submitting a girl tribute- 6 points

Submitting a boy tribute- 9 points

Submitting a character made for the Bloodbath- 12 points

Leaving an actual review- 5 points

Answering a Sponsor question correctly- 6 points

Giving me an Arena idea: 1-10 points

PM me anything I forgot!

**Sponsor shop!**

**Loaf of bread- 45 points**

**A full liter water bottle- 50 points**

**Pack of matches- 35 points**

**A decent sized pocket knife- 55 points**

**A bottle of iodine - 35 points**

**Simple medicine: home remedies, pain killers and bandages- 90 points**

**Night vision goggles- 130 points**

**A black sleeping bag- 120 points**

**3 throwing daggers- 100 points**

**3 knives (reasonable size) - 110 points**

**1 medium sized knife and a net- 95 points**

**A blowgun and 15 darts (non-poisonous) - 155 points**

**Bow and arrow (15 arrows) - 165 points**

**4 throwing axes or 4 normal axes- 175 points**

**1 sword- 170 points**

**1 spear- 160 points**

**Capitol medicine – specify what you want it to do- 250 points **

**PM me if I am missing anything :) **


	2. Tribute List and District 1 Reapings

**And here are the tributes that will be taking part of the Games! The District 1 reapings are just below this list ^^**

**District 1: **

Female: Phoenix 'Foe' Sterling (Sweet 'lil Mockingjay)- A very sarcastic and defensive girl about pretty much everything unless she actually likes the person, then she'll still tease the crap outta them about everything. She can't stand the stereotypical popular D1 girl with blonde hair and perfect everything. She has a bit of a temper and is always getting into trouble so she has a bit of a problem with authority figures and does not do well with any type of rules. While she does have a temper she can usually control it and use it to her advantage and she loves mocking people to make them p*ssed off, and she's very confident.

Male: Dapar Radsha (DonPianta)- He has always been a talkative person. This generally makes him be seen as attractive to many females, but some people find him to be annoying and arrogant. He can make light of any situation, and uses his jokey, optimistic nature to make friends. He is not easily frustrated or stressed, but his thoughts tend to be superficial. Thus, he is not very intelligent.

**District 2:**

Female: Kenzi Rogers (KitKat2014) - She is an energetic and impulsive young woman. She always tries to look to the light no matter how bad the situation might get. She has a short-fused and unpredictable nature causing her to run around her district without a care for the rules. She makes no plans and goes directly off of what she knows, she shows off her quick-witted attitude towards her opponents in the game. Along with her impulsiveness and short temper, she has a restless soul which causes her to move about not caring if she gets caught by her fellow tributes. Lastly she is a courageous girl willing to go to the end to help her friends and family even if it means her own end.

Male: Morgan Scott (AndItsGonnaBeTotallyAwesome ) - He's very suave, kind of an atypical career, doesn't worship the capitol, but is fairly indifferent. He can be rather lazy when he's particularly bored, but tends to be alert at all times. He's very hyper-aware, even when he's sleeping. He's a bit belligerent, will pick a fight if he really doesn't care for you but prefers to keep to himself unless otherwise prodded. He'll make an alliance, but only if he really feels like he can trust the person.

**District 3:**

Female: Kallina 'Kalli' Censura (i-am-foxface ) – She used to be a kind, funny, optimistic girl who could always make people smile. She was liked by most people and always tried to look on the bright side of things. Her mother had been training her and her sister for the games and she wanted to volunteer to bring glory to her family. Then her sister died in the hunger games and everything changed. Now, mentally scared from her sister's death she is a violent, untrusting girl who hates careers, gets in to fights easily, and hides her true emotions

Male: Benji Jenkins (The-Teeny-And-Amazing-Abby) - He's the kind of guy who thinks he's totally friggin epic. He's always complimenting himself and trying to get others to do so. Dresses up kind of emo. Oh, and everyone hates him.

**District 4: **

Female: Vencitiy Corbinette (ChibiPanda315) – She is a spiteful, arrogant, flirty, ungrateful, naive teenager, who craves for bigger and better things than her nice home in District 4. She is egotistic and believes she is the best thing since the Games themselves. At the beginning, even though she thinks she is a grown woman who is ready to face the Games and all the challenges they present, she is no more than an arrogant little girl. She has a huge sense of self worth and prides herself upon her appearance and her training. As far as she's concerned, the only thing she wants is to show both these things off to Panem at the Hunger Games, quickly flit her way through the games, win her fame and fortune and be home within the week to live the rest of her days in luxury, like the other winners have done.

Male: Theo Macdonald (KingWolf111 ) - He has a very arrogant and cocky attitude, thinks he is gods gift to women, acts like a major douchbag and thinks very badly of the poorer districts, he thinks that only he has the skill to make it to the top. Will accept almost no help at all.

**District 5:**

Female: Alexia "Alex" Tide (Munamana) – She is very cheery and joyful. An internal optimist, which people find quite strange since she has been training as a career. She can be quite clam and reasonable and will often find herself trying to reign in her friend Pike. Though she is nice, she is also quite cunning and determined and is willing to kill to make sure either herself or Pike return from the games, she means no ill will towards her fellow tributes but she will show no mercy.

Male: Pike Rivers (Munamana) - Pike is gruff, crude and brutally honest. Pike hates beating around the bush and will go straight to the point. His lack of parents has left his social skills less then desirable. Though he's not one to be provoked easily, he won't hesitate to use immediate violence if you go too far, namely threatening Alex. Though not stupid, he is very simple and is not book smart and he hates people who use big words to sound smart. Though crude, he's not a mean or cruel person and will show his softer side when no one's looking, especially to help children.

**District 6:**

Female: Nelira "Nel" Blue (MadolynMcGinty) – She is one of the bossiest people you'll ever meet. She tends to swear a lot, is quite rebellious and destructive, and is very spitfire with a short temper. She's a good friend, though, and very loyal. She is extremely driven and pretty kick-**. Usually serious, but can be a bit humorous (usually sarcastic) when she wants to be. She's very protective and focused, but not always the nicest.

Male: Collin Matthew Wrathers (MadolynMcGinty) - Basically the opposite of Nel in every way possible. He is a lot like a kid. He never knows when to keep his mouth shut and is always cracking jokes; never gets when a situation is meant to be serious. He doesn't put much effort into anything and is relaxed yet optimistic all the time. He always needs some extra authority; because he is quite hopeless on his own. He loves sports, but fails miserably at them. Very klutzy. He's a comedy relief, basically, and always aggravates Nel- sometimes to the point of a slap. But he likes it. Definitely not the sharpest tool in the shed. But he's very friendly and kind to everyone; doesn't get the point of being mean. He has a good heart.

**District 7:**

Female: Ayla Treleve (TheKatieKat) - She's the one that sits quietly in the corner, reading, while everyone else jokes around. Most people when they describe her don't really have a grasp on which she is, like she's hardly there. She doesn't have people that hate her, nor people who really like her, she's just in the middle. She's quiet, not as much shy as preferring to be alone. She actually prefers to be alone because she'd rather do it alone- not that she's a cynic or anything, she's just independent. She laughs, and will randomly in random places because her sense of humor is kind of off. She's sweet, to many adults and others. Her teachers would adore her because of how kind and studious she would be. She's kinda like a Loony Lovegood. She likes to dream, and is always thinking and dreaming, everywhere. Just has that look in her eyes.

Male: Hadrian Xander (Sweet 'lil Mockingjay) - He's a normal teenager. He's easy going and kinda cheeky, not shy in the least and has no problem making friends; he knows a lot of people and walking down the street he'd usually stop to say hi to more than one person. He's calm so it's hard to p*ss him off but when he is he can hold a grudge for a looong time so don't betray his trust ;) He's very smart and loves to learn new things, he also has a close connection with nature and he finds the woods relaxing. If someone was looking for him they'd go to the woods first because it's where he spends most of his time.

**District 8: **

Female: Rylinn Abrith (QueenOfSwordsAndFire ) - She has a defensive shell, and she acts like a b*tch to keep people away. She has a very fiery temper, and she isn't afraid to express her opinions. She hates having to do what people tell her, and is often mouthy and sarcastic with people who try to boss her around. In fact, she's mouthy and sarcastic to anyone. She's a bit of a daredevil and a bit self destructive. She is very loyal to the few people who've earned her care, but she doesn't trust easily.

Male: Shohn Vekriss (DonPianta) - Living in such a tiresome district, he has only a finger's grip on his mental condition. He is generally silent and unhappy, yet his face only portrays apathy. His friends and family are like a release for him; without them, he would have probably given up on life.

**District 9:**

Female: Astoria Delacorte (the epic bookworm ) – She is easy-going, calm, and friendly. She's very kind, although is very used to comfort since she's the mayor's daughter. She's sweet and friendly and she's the type of person who everyone at least feels friendly with. She doesn't have a short temper and doesn't get angry easily. But there's a different side to Astoria. She has an alternate personality called Nika. Nika is sly, ferocious, volatile, and deadly, and comes out on the few instances when Astoria gets angry. Astoria is unaware that Nika is in her and she can't remember anything that Nika does. Nika is manipulative and cruel, and unlike Astoria, has no problem with blood. Nika would stab her ally in the back in a moment if she thought it would help her. Astoria doesn't know about Nika but has always felt like there's something wrong with her.

Male: Nathan Ripley (KingWolf111 ) – He can come off as having a very determined and hard personality, he is the type of person that will take no crap from anyone, and he has worked hard his entire life to put food on the table for his sick mother and his little sister Mandy. He may come off as scary and cold but in truth once you get to know him he becomes more open and will freely talk to you(if you are a friend) he has a sense of honor and hates people who pick on those younger than them, he will fight for the rights of the younger ones, yet his main drawback is that he has a temper, this can cloud his usually sharp mind and cause him to make mistakes.

**District 10:**

Female: Cassie Hughes (Fleur-WickedWitchOfBeauxbatons) - A very blunt person, she's not afraid to tell it like it is. She's knows nothing's perfect; and knows that you have to work for what you're given. She never slacks off, and fights for what she believes in. She has a fiery temper, and is known for her bravery. But she has moments when she feels insecure, and easily gets stressed. But she has a heart of gold that she shows to those who she sees as "good".

Male: Buck Wolfe (Munamana) - Buck is charming, carefree and easygoing, he rarely takes things seriously and doesn't like getting riled up over small things. He's very laid back and will avoid petty squabbles and arguments, while he doesn't look for conflict, he's not a pushover and if you go too far he will retaliate with quick, pragmatic and efficient violence, he's a country boy and he knows how to scrap, he just prefers not to. He is also very kind and compassionate, he'll help people in need if he can and will always try to do the right thing, even if it's not the smart thing. His willing to help others comes from having younger siblings and his hope that if they were in trouble and he wasn't around, that someone else would help them. Buck is very loyal to his friends and family and everyone one of them has earned that trust, he is somewhat wary to strangers but never hostile. He is not a natural leader and he would much rather follow someone else's lead; he doesn't like pressure or responsibility. He is very snarky and witty at times and is somewhat of a flirt to the opposite sex but he knows when to back off, he doesn't go where he's not wanted. Lastly he's not one for strategy or planning, he likes to follow his gut and doest really think about the consequences sometimes but he always means well.

**District 11:**

Female: Hadley June Chevalier (young-lovers-eyes) – She is honest. It is in her nature to tell people how it is. If they're being rude, or annoying, or stupid, she'll tell them, but she will also tell them if they're doing something well, or if they look nice, etc. She's not the type to rush into things. She likes to consider the consequences of her actions carefully before she carries them out. She's not especially sweet or particularly mean or tough, but she's kind of in the middle there between them. She's sarcastic and intelligent, particularly in the way of common sense. She sees things like a grid or a map. Everything is perfectly organized and she knows just how to efficiently complete tasks. This makes her very level headed. However, sometimes her heart gets the better of her, and even if she knows that falling for some guy or indulging in something could get in her way, she'll do it. She's a closet romantic. She doesn't deal with change in her routine very well. She likes to have a list of tasks, and she'll carry them out in accordance to their importance. She believes in being honest, loyal, never doing things half-heartedly.

Male: Bryson Rhode Weatthers (Dream-the-Dream) - Bryson is ripe with boyish attitude. He doesn't take things very seriously and tends to bug people. He likes to do to things to people to get a reaction and tends to go with whatever is best for him. He's a bit selfish and can be annoying at times, but he can have his sweet sincere moments as well.

**District 12:**

Female: Bluebell Hart (Fleur-WickedWitchOfBeauxbatons) - She's a mentally unstable girl; but she makes people she her as innocent. Though, sometimes, she comes across as crazy and there are many rumors about her in the District. She's very unhinged, and is a pyromaniac[She History]. She seems weak; which she is physically; but, though she is slightly mental, she knows how to play people. She's great at persuading people, manipulating people, and, oh yes, seducing people.

Male: Alexander Devin Blake (Cato Mellark) - Usually a very silent person, often deep in thought. He's extremely smart and thinks things through before doing them. He was taught by his father, who died in a mine explosion when he was fifteen, to always be careful of what he does, because every action has a consequence, and to think of every possible outcome before doing something. He doesn't judge a book by his cover, because he knows that danger can come from the tiniest of things. He is fiercely brave and will protect his family and friends with his life. He is loyal to people he loves until the very end, and will not stop fighting until his heart stops. He isn't afraid to kill, because he knows that it's basically the only way to survive in the Games. He isn't afraid to stand up to injustice, but will think before acting. He doesn't really care about his looks, because he's concerned with more important things, particularly his family and how they're to survive.

**It is now time to start the reapings! Thanks to all of you who have submitted tributes! I am keeping track of sponsor points and will pm the amount of points you have before the Games start. Now make sure ya'll review ^^**

**District 1: **

**Phoenix 'Foe' Sterling's point of view.**

"Come on Foe is that the best you can do?" Ace taunts me as I try to focus on nothing, but the knife in my hand. The rush of the blade as it leaves my fingers is familiar. I take another deep breath as I hurl my precious blade into the dead center of a target.

"I've still seen better Phoenix," At the mention of my first name I turn around my gaze hard as I chuck a knife in Ace's direction. He drops to the floor as the knife slices through the air where he once stood.

"How many times have I told you not to call me that?" I retort my eyes still fixed into a glare on him.

Ace has been my friend for as long as I can remember. We are constantly getting into trouble together, but even he has a habit of getting on my nerves. Nobody calls me by my first name. Nobody.

All he does is laugh as my temper flares, "Oh, calm down Foe no need to get all worked up."

I flick a piece of hair out of my eyes regaining my composure and walk over to the target wrenching my knives out of the wood, "One of these days I'm going to make sure when I throw my knife at you it actually hits it's mark." My voice may sound threatening, but Ace knows I would never actually inflict pain upon him. We stride out of the training center and I have to shield my eyes from the sun that glints into my face. We walk towards the town square ready to face the reapings.

I have been mulling over the idea of volunteering, but I have Ace convinced that I have disregarded that idea, but I know that thought still lingers in my thoughts. Nobody believes I would stand a chance. My blood begins to broil at the memory of some girl from school mocking me telling me I would surely die in the bloodbath. She taunted that only a true beauty like herself would be able to win the crown without even breaking a nail. I quickly swiped that stupid smirk off her face when my fist connected with her nose. She didn't look, so pretty with blood smeared all over her face.

I stand in the seventeen year old section and run over the memory of the last time I went home.

"Foe, can you not play with your knife at the table please," My mother's voice is laced with annoyance at my unlady like behaviour. Why did I even bother coming here when I knew all my family would do is irritate me to no end.

I roll my eyes ignoring her request and I continue to roll my blade through my fingers. Then my "favourite" person to ever grace the world walks in. My "perfect" older sister Pixie. I hate her name along with just about everything else about her. In the eyes of all of District 1 she can do no wrong. She is beauty at its best my mother would always say. Nobody can believe that two completely different girls could be related. I swear I was adopted.

"Mother, I'm going out to get an outfit for the reaping." Pixie says in that obnoxious sing song voice of hers.

"Why don't you take Foe with you? Only lord knows she needs help picking out a decent outfit for the reapings," My mother suggests.

"I don't think so; I would rather be burned alive than go shopping with her," I say bitterly.

"Oh, come on Foe it could be fun," Pixie chirps with that stupid smile of hers plastered on her face.

"Oh, I'm sure it would be so much fun! We could get matching outfits then go and get our hair and nails done together," I mock her voice ignoring the glare I received from my mother and pushed away from the table leaving without another word.

I watch now as the escort of our District places her slim hand into the glass bowl containing the names of each female in our District. I then know what I am going to do; the one thing my perfect sister never did, "I VOLUNTEER!" My voice rings out before a name can even be drawn.

What drove me to shout out those two simple words that could very well end in my death? I just wanted to prove a point, but maybe this time I have taken things too far.

I now sit impatiently in the Justice building dreading these goodbyes. I know Ace is not going to be too pleased after what I just did. He knows I can fight, but the real question is can I survive?

The door bursts open and Ace walks in wearing an expression that clearly shows that he is not impressed, "Do you want to explain to me what the hell you were thinking? Oh, wait don't answer that; you weren't thinking at all!"

I frown slightly as he yells at me, "Way to support my decisions Ace."

"You want me to support your decision to get yourself killed?" He says this as he sits down next me starting to calm down slightly.

"I won't get myself killed; I'll win it's as simple as that."

"Foe, I know what you're capable of just don't underestimate anyone. That includes the tributes from District 12. Just try your best," He playfully punches me in the shoulder, but I can see the pain outlining his eyes. "You can't die on me you're my partner in crime remember?"

"How could I forget?" I suddenly hug him and we remain like this until he is dragged from the room. Now with nothing, but my thoughts for company does the realization of what I have just done start to sink in. I am now a piece of their games, but do I really want to play by their rules?

**Dapar Radsha's point of view.**

I gaze up at the ceiling as the sun flits around my room the sweet morning breeze snaking through my bedroom window intertwining its way through my hair. I sit up and run my hand through my blonde hair. Today is my second last reaping. Generally most would be worried for the events that are taking place in a little over an hour, but I on the other hand have always gone through life free of the holds of stress and worry.

I get myself ready when the dull tone that is my mother's voice climbs the stair, "Dapar your friends are at the door waiting for you." Her voice matches my father's distant and uninterested. We live only in toleration, but I would much rather be with my friends, or on my own.

I take one last look in the mirror that stands in the corner of my room and fix my hair one last time; there perfect. I practically skip down the stairs and open the front door and not to my surprise Argent and Hydra both stand there dressed for the reapings.

"Well don't you just looking dashing Dapar," Hydra teases me.

I readjust the collar of my shirt and grin at the brother and sister pair, "Well don't I always look dashing," I say jokingly as the three of us make our way towards the town square.

Argent playfully shoves me to the side, "You always this modest this early in the morning?" He says with a laugh. The three of us could go on like this for hours. The laughs never seem to cease with us even on a day like today. The odds have been in my favor all these years why should that stop now?

The laughs keeping rolling off our tongues before Hydra becomes very serious as we just about reach the town square, "What if one of our names are chosen as tribute?" She asks us both.

"Hydra, we live in District 1 even if one of our names is drawn I'm sure some other kid will just volunteer in our place," I say this trying to stay optimistic about the upcoming event.

Hydra nods as she parts ways heading over to the eighteen year old female section. Argent and I make our way to the seventeen year old section. We stand side by side snickering at the grotesque color of our escort's skin.

"You know with those feathers sticking out of her head she kind of looks like an ostrich; and with that dark orange color of her skin it makes her look like a burnt ostrich," I say a little too loudly attracting a few looks from others around me creating a small ripple of laughter even in this tension.

Our laughs are stopped short when our escort reaches into the glass bowl containing the names of the females. She doesn't even get the chance to draw a name before someone calls out, "I VOLUNTEER!"

A girl of average height strides towards the stage an aura of confidence surrounding her. She is attractive in an almost intimidating way. I have seen her before in the training center, but I have never learnt her name. She stands up straight and speaks clearly, "Foe Sterling." Our escort congratulates her for her bravery and makes her way towards the bowl containing the names of the males.

My heart beat remains steady and calm as I still feel no worry for being chosen. Even if I was someone would surely volunteer. I watch with steady eyes as her hands open that small piece of paper, "The male tribute for District 1 is Dapar Radsha!"

I still remain calm even as I make my way towards the stage; I wait for someone to volunteer, but nobody does. This doesn't bother me as a nonchalant smile spreads across my face. As a career I have been training for this. I was hoping to volunteer during my last year I am eligible for the reapings, but the sooner I am crowned Victor the better.

I stand next to Foe still appearing carefree about the situation I am being thrown into. Some may think it is an act, but I know better. I rarely feel frustration, or worry and that is not about to change. I wave out at the crowd keeping true to the typical arrogant District 1 stereotype. I turn to Foe and shake her hand.

"Allies?" I ask her and she nods.

Among the cheers of our home District we are lead to the Justice Building for our final goodbyes, but I know I'll be back home soon enough.

**So what did you guys think? I hope I portrayed your characters alright. ^^**


	3. District 2 Reapings

**District 2:**

**Kenzi Roger's point of view.**

My slingshot is poised perfectly in my slender fingers; a Peacekeeper stands in plain sight making an easy target. This is how I break out of the shell I was raised in. That protective strict barrier that always surrounded me I needed to shatter it. I needed to break free; to feel the adrenaline course through my veins as I run carelessly through the District looking for trouble. I have never felt, so alive since I started breaking the law. I don't get myself into any major problems; just a little mischief here and there.

I pull back my slingshot about to shoot a pebble directly at the Peacekeeper's forehead when I feel a hand on my shoulder and jump up in surprise. I twirl around my slingshot still in an offensive position, but I quickly lower it when I look into the eyes of my best friend Alexandra.

She arches an eyebrow as she studies me, "What exactly do you think you're doing?"

Well what I was thinking was how funny the expression on the Peacekeeper's face would have been when the pebble struck him, but I can't exactly tell her that, so instead I say, "Oh nothing, I was just testing the flexibility of my slingshot is all."

She keeps her eyebrow raised obviously not buying my story. She always does this; she remains quiet until I spill and I always do.

"Okay, so I was thinking about shooting a little pebble at that Peacekeeper over there; no big deal," I say as I restlessly tap my foot. Standing here I can feel my energy budding up at a quick rate. My energy levels always seem to be abundant; a never ending supply.

Alexandra lets out a sigh, "Kenzi, you really don't need to be getting yourself into trouble today of all days."

I don't need her to remind what today is. My blood broils just at the mention of the Capitol. I may be career, but I have not been molded into what they would call a perfect District 2 citizen. The Capitol is nothing, but a fake facade of colors and lies in my eyes. How they see kids killing each other as a form of entertainment is something I will never fully grasp.

"I know what day it is Alexandra. How could I forget," I say to her.

"I don't think any of us could forget. Now let's go before you do something I'm sure you'll regret," She says this as she takes hold of my wrist and practically drags me back to my house before I can get myself into anymore trouble. I don't see why she goes out of her way to protect me; I'm just trying to live a little.

"I'll meet up with you after the reapings alright?" She smiles and walks off to get herself ready. I know she is excited to get today over with. After this she will be free from the grasps that are the reapings.

I tip toe towards my room wanting to avoid my family at the moment. I don't want to listen to my father questioning me as to where I have been, or lecture me on how proud he would be if I volunteered for the Hunger Games this year. No, matter how many times I have told him I refuse to throw away my life, but he doesn't seem to listen.

I walk past my brother Patrick's open bedroom. I glance at him only for a few seconds, but in those few seconds I can see how restless he is. He has been this way since we won the Games four years ago back when he was eighteen. He worries more than he should for me. He doesn't want me to go through the same experiences he did. I can't help, but resent him slightly for giving in. He killed to make it back home. I know how I feel isn't fair, but he let the Capitol change him.

I sit at my dresser and brush out my long light brown hair, so it cascades in small curls down my back and readjust my skirt. I stand up smoothing out my blouse and look at my reflection on last time. I can almost see the rebel hidden in the reflection of my dark blue eyes. I turn on my heels and head downstairs. Just as I am about to step out the door my father stops me.

"Kenzi, I presume you will volunteering this afternoon," My father states simply.

I keep my back turned to him and try to keep my temper hidden beneath my surface. "I will be doing no such thing," I say through my teeth as I walk outside slamming the front door behind me.

My shoes click along the cobbled streets as I make my way towards the town square and I stand in the seventeen year old section. Just a few more minutes and this pressure will be relieved from my chest. I scan the area observing the faces around me; some seem, so eager to get this reaping under way. Why have we been told from birth that volunteering is the right thing to do? District 2 has spilt so much blood just to win the crown. They see it as a symbol of honor; I see it as nothing more than empty promises. They promise you riches and glory, but really all they are doing is stealing everything from you. Your integrity, morals, and in some cases a loved one.

I watch as our escort reaches his hand into that glass bowl that holds someone's death sentence; my breath catches in my throat as he reads out the name, "The female tribute for District 2 is Kenzi Rodgers!" I remain rooted to my spot and have to be ushered to the stage. Someone will volunteer; I'm sure of it, but I was wrong. By the time I reach the stage I force a smile onto my face. I won't let the Capitol change me, but I won't disappoint my family.

**Morgan Scott's point of view.**

The female tribute slowly makes her way towards the stage and I can see the fear flicker through her eyes. That is quickly replaced by a look of determination; a look familiar in this District. That look says do not volunteer for me it is my turn to take the crown. I place my hands behind my head and stare up at the sky. I feel no fear at this moment I know if I was to be reaped being eighteen and from a career District the odds would be in my favor.

I have always felt indifferent towards the Capitol and these Games. I wouldn't say I love them, but I don't hate them either. Even though my eyes gaze away from the stage my ears are alert to the sound of our escort's hand reaching into that glass bowl concealing someone's fate.

"The male tribute for District 2 is Morgan Scott!" His voice booms through the square and my eyes snap towards the stage when my name is called out. I take step after step and make my way towards the stage. The sounds of cheers echo back off the buildings as I stand tall no fear written across my face. My expression reads this is my turn to enter the arena and unless you want to die now no one shall volunteer for me. I am not afraid of what the Capitol could and probably will do to me even if I should be.

My eyes scan the crowd and for a split second they lock with the girl I love Jamie. We were together for two years, but I broke it off two days ago when I found out she was cheating on me with my supposedly best friend. Her eyes look at me glazed over by tears. But I still keep my face wiped of emotion.

I turn to Kenzi and shake her hand, "Allies I presume?"

She shakes her head, "No I don't think so."

A career that strays away from the pact that normally forms is rare, but in the end it can be an intelligent move. My plan is to gauge how trustworthy the other careers are before I get myself involved in any alliance.

I walk along the cobbled streets towards the Justice Building the sounds of my District's proud cheers echoing through my ears. So, proud they always are of those of us who are chosen. For all they know they could be looking at the next Victor.

I sit down on a plush couch picking at a loose thread on my shirt out of boredom before my mom walks in. My mother Anna is the gentlest person to grace District 2 in my eyes. Even though she is a bit dim I love her all the same.

"M-Morgan," Her voice is choked by her tears as she hugs me as if she is afraid to let go.

"Mom, I'll be fine; you don't need to be so upset. You have to stay strong. For yourself as much as Katherine," I instruct her.

Katherine is my twin sister although I always enjoyed annoying her we are close. She knows more about me than anyone else.

"B-But Morgan your going into the arena. I can't lose yo-" She begins, but I cut her off.

"Mom, listen to me right now. I will be fine," I say firmly. "I know how to fight; I know how to survive. I'll be back home in a couple of weeks."

She nods softly and just hugs me again until a Peacekeeper walks in telling her she has to leave. Her grip tightens around me and I gently pry her fingers off.

"Be brave," She whispers as she is taken from the room and I am left alone again.

I stand by the window watching the wind flit through the trees. I relish in the serenity of being alone with nothing, but my thoughts. I think of everything I know that would help me stay alive. If I could just get my hands on a sword; my thoughts are interrupted by the door opening.

"Morgan what the hell why wouldn't you let someone volunteer for you? I saw that look on your face," My sister says as she walks into the room grief lingering in her voice.

I turn to face her and just walk over and hug her, ""Sorry Katie, but I was chosen and there was no way I was going to let someone who probably has less of a chance take my place."

"How many times have I told you not to call me Katie," She mumbles into my shoulder.

"Enough times for me to know how much it gets on your nerves."

She pulls back and looks at me, "You better win Morgan. I know how deadly you can be with a sword; if you can get your hands on one in the Cornucopia the other tributes won't even stand a chance."

"Just take care of mom," I say this as she is escorted out of the room. I refuse to make a promise I may not be able to keep. I can't be foolish and underestimate the other tributes like careers in the past have done.

Peacekeepers lead me through my District and I take in everything not wanting to forget a single detail. I want to remember how the sun gleams off the roof of the Justice Building; I want to remember the colors of each building; I want to remember every little detail that reminds me of home.

My image on the television screen shows my emotionless face with my eyes filled with nothing, but determination. Kenzi's image then flashes onto the screen; I can see faint tear stains on her face that are almost unnoticeable, but now she has a smile on her face. We do not speak to each other as we walk onto the train and I watch out the window as my home fades further into the distance.

**Now make sure you review ^^**


	4. District 3 Reapings

**District 3:**

**Kallina 'Kalli' Censura's point of view.**

The crack of bones slithers their way into my ears as I bring down my fist again. My hands are covered in slick metallic blood; no sixteen year old girl's hands should look this way. The older boy beneath me coughs up blood causing deep scarlet droplets to rain down on his chin. How dare he think he can insult my sister and get away with it. I raise my fist again, but I feel a pair of arms wrap themselves around my stomach and pull me away.

"Let me go!" I yell out as I struggle to turn around to see who interrupted my next punch.

"Kalli, will you just calm down. Come with me and we can talk about this before you get yourself into trouble," The voice of my best friend Celesta enters my ears. I instantly stop struggling and stand up straight. I remain quiet as I walk next to her trying to regain control of the anger that continues to intertwine its way through my veins.

"Are you going to start talking anytime soon?" Celesta asks me. Her long red hair bounces around as we walk into her house. She has always had the habit of know exactly what is wrong with me. Sometimes this gets on my nerves, but I wouldn't be able to keep anything from her in the first place. She didn't have to be there to know exactly what the fight was about.

"I need to wash my hands," I say flatly as I look down at the scarlet that has caked my hands. This is not the first time I have been in a fight and I know it will not be the last. My fights are always brought on for the same reason. You think people would learn not to insult my deceased sister while I am present.

Celesta brings me to the bathroom and leaves me alone to clean up. I watch as the water swirls down the drain first a dark scarlet then it slowly turns clear again. My anger is similar to the water; how bright it burns then quickly changes as it melts away.

I walk into Celesta's room and flop down on her bed staring up at the ceiling.

"You ready to talk yet?" She asks me as she brushes out her long hair as she gets ready for the reapings that are to take place in an hour.

"He insulted Alyissa. He said she was weak for allying with a twelve year old. He said she never stood a chance of winning in the first place," I close my eyes as grief slowly washes over me. It has been two years since my sister was reaped and lost her life playing in the Capitol's games. I can still remember the panic that washed over me when her name was called. I was only thirteen at the time and I had to be held back by Peacekeepers when I tried to rush to her side. I remember her wiping away my tears as we sat in the Justice Building. She promised to make it home to me, but she wasn't able to keep her promise. The careers got the best of her; which explains my hatred towards them.

"You need to stop listening to what other people say. You're sister died with honor; that's something you should be proud of. Now come on we need to finish getting ready."

I pull on my shorts along with a white string tank top and observe my reflection closely in the mirror. I put my dark red hair up with the silver butterfly clip that belonged to my sister. It is the only piece of her that I have left. After she died my parents got rid of most of her stuff thinking that would be the easiest way to approach the situation. The death of my sister didn't affect my parents as much as it did me. My mother being a victor always wanted her children to follow in her footsteps. I resent her for encouraging the games. I resent my father for allowing her to think that way.

"You're hair looks really pretty pulled back like that. You should wear it like that more often," Celesta forces a small smile as she tries to keep the mood light.

We head towards the town square and a million ideas seem to rush across my mind. However I keep my face an unreadable mask. The only one who has ever been able to see past this facade is Celesta. We both sign in and wait in the sixteen year old section. I close my eyes briefly as the images in my mind waver. Ever since my sister's death I have been plagued by the haunting images of the careers drawing out every possible scream from her lungs. I keep my fists clenched as I try to fight the images that threaten to spill over my vision.

I can't be weak; I can't let them take such a toll on my life anymore. I barely even hear our escort drone on about the history of Panem as the image of my sister laying in the grass her throat slit open in a red smile creeps its way into my mind. I gasp out and can hear Celesta trying to calm me down, but she sounds so distant.

That's when I hear our escort ask if anyone wants the honor of stepping forward and volunteering as the female tribute. This is when I know what I have to do. I run past everyone and yell out, "I VOLUNTEER!"

The images of my sister quickly melt away as I walk onto the stage. What possessed me to scream out those words? That is easily answered; I am doing this is avenge my sister. Those careers won't be safe as long as I am still breathing. My dark red hair blows around in the soft breeze as I stare out into the crowd of people, "My name is Kallina Censura." And I am here out of revenge and revenge alone.

**Benji Jenkins point of view.**

I strut towards the town square and run my hand through my black hair. I wink to a few girls as I sign myself in and they just look at me in disgust.

"Oh, come on ladies I know you want this," I say to them as I blow them a kiss. As much as everyone seems to dislike me I know their all just hiding just how much they really love me. I'm Benji Jenkins and every girl wants me and every guy wishes they could be me.

I make my way towards the seventeen year old section and turn to a tall blonde that walks past me, "Lets commit the perfect crime: I'll steal you're heart and you'll steal mine." She looks completely unamused at what I think is a clever pick up line and snorts as she walks away. She'll be back; I know she will be.

Everyone avoids me as I take my place and wait for the names to be called. I won't be reaped; I'm too awesome to be placed in the Games. I watch as a girl runs forward to volunteer, why people volunteer is beyond me. The only reason I would want to be in the Games is because all the eyes of Panem will be on me. Everyone will get to be graced by knowing my name. I observe my reflection in a puddle when I hear my name being called out, "The male tribute for District 3 is Benji Jenkins!"

Wait there is no way I heard that correctly. I dramatically place my hand over my forehead and gasp. I don't move from my place and have to be pushed up towards the stage. There are so many more people that would be better suited for this role. Then another thought creeps across my mind as I glance at Kallina. Maybe I can have a little fun before the games even have to start. I reach out my hand to shake hers and she just shakes her head.

"I don't trust anyone, so don't bother asking to form an alliance with me," She says coldly. I shrug off her hostility and turn back out to face the crowd. I wave to the cameras as I am led to the Justice Building. I might as well enjoy all the attention while I can.

**So let me know what you think of the District 3 tributes! I know the males point of view was short, but I had a difficult time coming up with anything for him..Now make sure you review and here's your trivia question!**

**What does Haymitch tell Peeta and Katniss to do once the 60 seconds are up and the gong sounds announcing the start of the games?**

**The first to answer correctly will receive six sponsor points and the next three to answer correctly will receive four sponsor points! Send me your answers through PM please!**


	5. District 4 Reapings

**So, the answer for the previous question was: To flee from the cornucopia and to find water. We are now moving onto the District 4 reapings ^^**

**District 4:**

**Vencitiy Corbinette's point of view.**

I stretch out my long sun kissed legs and tilt back my head letting my dark chocolate hair cascade down my back. I let my skin soak up the warm sunlight as I trail my fingertips lightly across the surface of the sand. These are the last few precious moments I will have to myself before the reapings. With my vigorous morning training all ready behind me I have time to have a little fun.

I wave my dainty hand and bat my eyelashes to a pair of boys who stroll by. Oh, how I love the rush of attention. With all eyes on me that is when I feel in my element. I stand up and reach my hands up stretching towards the vibrant blue sky. Many marvel at the beauty District 4 holds, but I crave for something bigger and better. I will not limit myself to this land by the ocean; I Vencitiy Corbinette deserve much more.

I walk back towards my home with my head held high. It's not very often one such as myself graces the cobbled streets of District 4 with their presence. I skip up the front steps of my home and head to my bedroom. It's not like I can look much better than I do now, but a little extra lip gloss never hurt anyone. I brush out my hair as my fifteen year old sister Cyrina walks into my room and plops herself down on my bed. I look over at her through my steely grey eyes, "I see you are already finished getting ready for the reapings."

She rakes her fingertips through her dark hair and smoothes out her blouse, "I see your still busy applying all that lip gloss."

I roll my eyes and turn my attention back to my reflection. My looks are just one of the things I can't wait to flaunt in front of all of Panem. Beauty and skills; I'll be the one to watch out for.

"You know mom and dad are going to freak when you volunteer."

"That would by why I signed up for tesserae even though we don't need it. If I am reaped they can't say anything; I can just blame it on fate," I say this with a mischievous smile on my face.

Both of my parents forbade myself and my siblings from entering the games. Which is why I made sure my name is entered in the reaping bowl more often than it needs to be. Besides myself the Games are the best thing to ever happen to Panem and I will be a part of them.

"Well you know I'll be rooting for you the entire time; I'll see you at the Justice Building for your goodbyes," She gives me a slight smile as she exits my room.

My parents just don't understand the opportunity the Games are for me. I'll easily breeze through these games and be home within a few short weeks. Who knows maybe I can have a little fun during my time in the Capitol. I'll show all of Panem exactly who I am and wrap them around my slender fingers. I stand up and ruffle my hair one last time before I head downstairs.

As I reach the door I feel a small gentle hand tugging at my own. I look down to see my eleven year old sister Emiline looking up at me with wide frightened eyes. Fear has always taken a hold of her on the great day that is the reapings. I may love my sister, but she is weak and doesn't understand why I want to be a part of the Games so much.

"Vencitiy, please don't volunteer," She says this in her quiet fragile voice.

"How do you know I'm volunteering?" I ask her with a raised eyebrow.

"I overheard you talking with Cyrina," She lightly tugs on my hand again. "If you promise to stay I'll watch the entire Games with you and I won't even cry once! Just promise please," She looks up at me with pleading eyes.

"I am not going to make a promise that I won't keep," I pull my hand away from her and walk out the door.

Harsh were my words, but she's young she can't understand. She can't understand the craving feeling I have to reach power. Something I can't achieve by staying here in District 4.

"Vencitiy!" I turn in the direction my name is called from and wave to my best friend and neighbor Adlele.

Her blonde hair flits around her as she walks next to me towards the town square. Adlele is the only person in this District I have bothered to get close to with. With both of us holding onto dreams of the honour the Games would bring us we get along quite well.

"So, are you exited for the reapings?" She asks me as we sign ourselves in.

"Of course I am; lots of attention not to mention lots of cute boys around. How could I not be excited?" I chirp as we stand in the seventeen year old section waiting for the reapings to begin.

I watch intently as our escort takes the stage. As much as I enjoy the Games the people of the Capitol are ridiculous; with their unnatural skin and hair colors and their annoying voices.

I don't even allow myself to blink as our escort reaches her hand into the bowl and pulls that small slip of paper that I hope has my name written on it.

"The female tribute for District 4 for this year's Annual Hunger Games is," She opens the small piece of paper and my breath catches in my throat, "Vencitiy Corbinette!"

A wave of happiness washes over me as I jump up a small squeal escaping my lips. Out of all those names in that bowl mine was chosen. I being a part of the Games must be fate. I practically run up to the stage and take that lovely piece of paper from her hands and kiss it quickly before I hold it up in the air in victory. I give the crowd a look letting them know nobody will be volunteering for me. I wouldn't give this up for the world.

**Theo Macdonald's point of view.**

My axe cleanly cuts through the air in one swift movement, but it's still not good enough. I bring down my axe again with enough strength to tear the dummy it collides with off its post. Again I bring down my axe tearing away at its flesh and I don't stop until a puddle of fake blood pools around my feet. I can see my bright green eyes obscured by the scarlet reflecting back up at me. A smirk creeps across my face as I look down at it; now if only that was some pathetic little tribute from District 12. I look up and notice my act of bloodlust has attracted a few looks. Let them stare; let them gaze upon their next victor. I know I could win on my own; I would only accept help if it were to benefit me. An alliance with the other female careers seems fitting for myself; since I am god's gift to woman.

I notice a girl with long blonde hair over at the knife station and I decide I still have time to play before I need to get ready for the reapings. I hurl my axe in her direction shattering the target she was aiming at. I recognize the girl from school; I think her name is Jasmine, or something along those lines. She turns to face me a look of something I can only label as unimpressed clearly written on her face.

"Trying to show off as usual Theo?" She asks me as she throws her hair over shoulder.

"I'm not showing off; I'm merely training."

"Then why don't you go continue mutilating dummies over there and leave me be," She waves me off as she turns her back to me.

"Once I am crowned victor don't expect me to show any interest in the likes of you," I scoff as I grab my bag and walk out the door.

Once I return home and am bathed in riches girls like her are going to regret turning their backs to me. I will prove to everyone that I have the skills and abilities to back up my cocky attitude. I know nobody from the poorer Districts could out smart me. They are untrained imbeciles that fall by the career's hands every year. Time and time again their blood is painted across the arena; splattering the grass in deep droplets of crimson. The few from the poorer District that emerge as victors won on luck and luck alone. Someone like myself doesn't need to rely on luck. As long as I have myself I can never lose.

In a few moments I pull my plaid shirt over my head and do up the button on my jeans. I walk over to the mirror in the corner of my room and spike up my light brown hair. My emerald eyes sparkle dangerously in the light as the time for the reapings crawls closer. I lick my lips hungrily as I descend the stairs. I barely listen as my parents wish me luck and I walk out the door.

What a waste of breath it is to wish me luck. You think by now after eighteen years they would realize I don't need it and I never will. I keep my eyes trained straight ahead until I feel someone punch me in the shoulder.

"Dude you looking forward to the reapings? I'm sure there will be lots of good looking girls in short dresses just like there is every year," I look over at my best friend Frankie Jones who is wearing his trade mark lopsided grin.

"And I'm going to have all those girls eyes on me when I volunteer," My voice is laced with confidence as I say this.

"So you're going through with volunteering for sure then?"

I nod once, "And don't you go wishing me luck like everyone else; we both know I won't need it."

I get myself signed in and head towards the eighteen year old section. I stand tall as I peer towards the stage. My heart beat remains steady as our escort takes the stage and begins the yearly babble that is our history. My hands twitch slightly as I already crave the feel of my axe back in my hands. I begin to grow restless as I wait impatiently for the names to be called.

"The female tribute for District 4 for this year's Annual Hunger Games is Vencitiy Corbinette!" An annoying squeal reaches my ears as the girl practically runs onto the stage. The girl may be beautiful in a sense, but it is over eager idiots like that who will die by my hands. She waves the piece of paper that had her name around in the air like it was a trophy and I just roll my eyes. She is the kind of girl I would use then toss to the side once I am finished with her.

"Now onto the males," Our escort reaches into the bowl for a name and everything seems to slow down. I take a steady step forward before that name can even be read, "I volunteer!" I push a few people to the side as I make my way to the stage. I puff out my chest in a way some may see as obnoxious as I say my name clearly, "Theo Macdonald." The cheers of the crowd flood my ears as I turn to Vencitiy to shake her hand.

"Feel graced to be in the presence of the next leader of the career pact," She says this with a small smirk on her face and all I do is snort.

"Why would I feel graced to be in the presence of second in command?" Her gaze turns cold as I turn to look back out over the crowd. To win this on my own will be a great accomplishment. An accomplishment only I would be able to reach.

**Well both of those tributes think quite highly of themselves ;P Any who ya'll know what to do REVIEW! **

**And onto the trivia question!**

**Who are the District 8 escapees from Catching Fire?**

**The first to answer correctly will receive six sponsor points and the next three to answer correctly will receive four sponsor points!**


	6. District 5 Reapings

**So the answer to my previous trivia question was: Bonnie and Twill. **

**The receivers of those points were ****ChibiPanda315 who answered first and got six sponsor points. The following three each received four sponsor points: i-am-foxface, QueenOfSwordsAndFire, and Sweet 'lil Mockingjay.**

**As for sponsor points I am keeping track of how many each of you have and once I have completed the reapings I will post your current points and keep frequently updating them. That way you can see how many you have! I will be changing some of the prices in the sponsor shop as some of you already have a crap load of points *cough* Owners of District 1 tributes *cough* and on with the District 5 reapings!**

**District 5:**

**Alexia "Alex" Tide's point of view.**

Come on just turn your back for two seconds; I wait impatiently for the shopkeeper to waver his eyes away from my direction just for a brief second. He turns his back and I use this to my advantage as I snatch an apple from the stall and dash away before he can even notice. I toss my apple in the air casually and take a bite as I catch it. I savor the flavours that dance across my tongue as I shield my eyes from the sun that glares down at me. Having grown up in the orphanage I don't get the opportunity to enjoy simple delicacies such as this often.

I walk along the cobbled streets taking in the familiar surroundings, but I can already see the changes taking place. Large televisions screens are being set up along with a stage for the reapings that are to take place in a mere few hours. I take a deep breath and try to stay optimistic about the upcoming events. There are plenty of kids in District 5 the chances of my name being drawn are slim.

I walk closer towards the edge of the District just wanting to spend a few quite moments on my own. I discard my finished apple core in the lush grass and flop down allowing the soft grass to caress my skin. I smile up at the sky as I allow my eyes to fall close. People always find it quite strange that I am able to keep an air of cheeriness surrounding me at most times. I may not have the perfect life, but I am making the best of the cards I have been dealt.

The way I see it is that if I hadn't been raised in the orphanage I most likely never would have met Pike. He has been my best friend since childhood; he is the one I can count on to always be there. I am one of the few people that he always to see past is tough outer shell. My mind starts to waver as sleep slowly creeps its way around my mind.

It is always the same dream; the same dream which I can never understand. I can hear the soft cries of a woman blended together with raindrops splattering across the ground. The eerie darkness closes in on me obscuring my vision; bathing me in nothingness. I struggle to see past the inky darkness and reach out my hands wanting to comfort the one who surely has tears cascading down her cheeks. Everything remains quiet then for the first time I hear a man speak, "Come on Penelope this is for the best. They will be able to look after Alexia better than we ever could." His voice seems to drip all around me and I long to hang onto those words. I know that must be the voice that belonged to my father.

I jolt awake and push my hair light brown hair out of my face. I trace my fingertips lightly across the scar that runs the length of my calf. I have had it as long as I can remember. Much mystery surrounds it and everyday I think of a new way I could have obtained it. Pike always says I was probably just clumsy and tripped over my own two feet and cut my leg open. It's possible, but I think I like not knowing better. By not knowing the truth you can allow your mind to run wild with different ideas and stories. When something is set in stone there is nothing left to discover.

I look up at the sky and notice the sun is now perched high up in the blue dome; this is when I realize I have been asleep longer that I had ever meant to be. I am on my feet in one swift movement and then I am running. My hair flies out behind me as I mentally curse myself for allowing myself to stay asleep so long. I cannot be late to the reapings unless I want to face the consequences.

I was supposed to meet Pike earlier so we could walk to the reapings together, but I can explain my absence to him later. I skid to a halt as I reach the town square and let out a sigh of relief as I realize I made it just in time.

I get myself signed in and only wince slightly as they take my blood. Then a thought hits me; this is the last time I will ever have to endure this. This lifts my spirits by a small amount as I make my way over to the eighteen year old section. The realization that this is my final reaping never actually hit me until this very moment as I gaze upon the stage. The last year I will ever have to worry about Pike's, or my own name being drawn from the reaping bowl.

I stand on my tip toes in an attempt to get a better look as our escort takes the stage. I watch slightly distracted as her vibrant purple hair blows around her in the wind. I was always curious as to why they would choose such odd colors for their hair.

I pay close attention as we are told our history. I have the entire speech almost memorized after hearing it so many times, but the history of the Dark Days still intrigues me. I find it fascinating that so many people were willing to lay down their lives to fight for a better feature; even if they did fail.

I hold my breath as our escort open the slip of paper that holds the name of the female tribute, "The female tribute for District 5 for the 122nd Annual Hunger Games is Alexia Tide!"

Emotions flood me as the sound of my name being called out echoes in my ears. My usual calm and cheery exterior falters for a moment as I feel a single tear cascade down my cheek.

**Pike Rivers point of view.**

I wait impatiently outside the orphanage for Alexia to show up; she was supposed to be here twenty minutes ago. I know if I don't leave soon I will be late for the reapings. I decide it will just be best to find her afterwards and walk towards the town square. I avoid most as I get myself signed in and wait in the eighteen year old section. I don't exactly have the most desirable people skills and the only one who puts up with my gruff attitude is Alexia.

We are complete opposites and sometimes I wonder how we became such close friends. The day we first met is clearly imprinted in my mind.

It was shortly after I had first arrived at the orphanage. I was only five and I didn't quite understand what was going on. The only thing I fully understood was I would never see my parents again. Most kids kept their distance from me, but Alexia insisted on trying to befriend me. I remember pushing her to the ground in an attempt to get her to leave me alone. I remember the small tears that rolled down her cheeks and even back then I hated seeing tears stain her delicate features. From that day we only grew closer and I don't know what I would do without her.

Now standing here under the bright sun do I crane my neck trying to spot her in the sea of people. Just as the reapings are to start I see her come running down the street and just about trip as she skids to a halt. I can see the sleep marks clearly on her face and know she must have been in her meadow. I am the only person she has ever allowed to be a part of her place of serenity. Memories of lazy summer days flood my mind as I half pay attention to our escort. The only thing that snaps me out of my daze is the sound of her name being called.

"The female tribute for District 5 for the 122nd Annual Hunger Games is Alexia Tide!"

No, out of all of those names why did her name have to be drawn? I watch as she takes a shaky step towards the stage a single tear cascading down her cheek and I know I can't allow her to go through this on her own.

"Move! Get out of my way!" I yell as I shove people to the side and run to the front of the crowd. I try to make my way towards Alexia, but Peacekeepers block my way. I try to shove past them, but I know the only way to get to her is to yell out those two seemingly simple words, "I volunteer! I volunteer as the male tribute!" Several emotions flicker across Alexia's face as the Peacekeepers move aside.

I walk next to her and take her hand. "I know what I'm doing," I say simply as we reach the stage. She continues to remain speechless as I tell all of Panem my name.

"Pike Rivers," My voice is clear and the look in my eyes screams that I will not let anyone touch Alexia as long as I am still breathing.

The goodbyes in the Justice building are a blur; only the owner of the orphanage came to say goodbye to me. He at least seems to understand why I volunteered. I don't even fully understand why. Was it because I didn't want to watch my best friend be slain for all to see while I watched helplessly, or is it something more?

I walk along the ever familiar cobbled streets of District 5 as I am escorted towards the train station. I catch a glimpse of myself on one of the many television screens and the boy looking back at me appears almost hostile. Perfect let the other tributes know I am not one to be underestimated; even if I don't have any intentions of winning these Games. I watch as Alexia walks onto the train; she has her air of cheery optimism surrounding her, but that cannot hide the tears stained to her face.

The moment the doors of the train close behind us she turns to face me, "Pike I want you to explain to me right now exactly what you were thinking when you volunteered?"

"I can't let you die," I say simply to her.

She just stares at me for a moment before she wraps her arms around me. I hug her back and we remain in this embrace for quite some time.

"I won't let you die for me," She whispers.

"I won't give you much choice in the matter." I say back to her.

I won't let the one person I have ever allowed myself to get close to die as nothing more than a piece of their Games. I really never cared for the Capitol, but I will not allow them to take her from me.

She pulls back and looks up at me, "You know you're really going to have to work on those awful people skills of yours if you want the people of Panem to like you."

I smile slightly, "It's not my fault I don't like most people. We can't all be cheerful optimists like you."

She just shakes her head and laughs lightly. With District 5 now far away in the distance does everything really start to sink in. I will be fighting for my life to keep her alive. Ideas of strategy run across my mind as I try to think of ways previous victors survived the Games. Survival tactics can wait till later for now I want to enjoy my last few days with Alexia.

**And there you have it for the District 5 reapings! Now make sure you review because that always makes my day ^^**

**Onto the trivia question!**

**What color are Glimmer's eyes?**

**The first to answer correctly will receive six sponsor points and the next three to answer correctly will receive four sponsor points!**


	7. District 6 Reapings

**The answer to my previous trivia question was: Green.**

**The receivers of those points were****ChibiPanda315 who answered first and got six sponsor points. The following three each received four sponsor points: i-am-foxface, QueenOfSwordsAndFire, and Sweet 'lil Mockingjay. Yes it is the same people who answered last time I think I have some story stalkers ;) **

**Now let the District 6 reapings begin!**

**District 6:**

**Nelira "Nel" Blue's point of view.**

I scale the side of my house and pull myself through my bedroom window. I could use the door, but then again I never was what you would consider a normal teenage girl. I also know leaving boot prints on the side of the house p*sses my mother off. I just see that as an added bonus. I try to remember the last time my mother and I even exchanged words with one another. Is it pathetic that I can't think of a memory?

I walk over to my dresser and throw the few outfits I own across the room. Ever since my father died money has been tight around here. We manage, but as long as my younger sister is well fed and has a roof over her head I could care less about having little clothing. I pull on the only dress I own and turn to face the mirror.

I frown at my reflection as the green dress is far too tight; in all honesty I look like a god damn ham wrapped in green tinfoil. I push my dark brown hair away from my face and focus on my eyes. My dark eyes matched my father's; the only really resemblance him and I shared. I shrug off the displeasure of my reflection and walk downstairs.

I breeze past my mother in the hallway and our eyes lock for only the briefest of moments. I know the only thing holding us back from killing each other is my little sister Rose. She is the only reason I will tolerate my mother. As soon as I am old enough I am determined to move out of here and bring Rose with me. My mother is selfish and if she won't look after Rose properly then she doesn't deserve to have her in her life. She barely pays attention to either of us as her depression from the lost of my father continues to keep its hold on her.

"Nel!" My little sister comes running down the hall and takes my hand. "You look pretty!" She looks up at me with eyes still full of innocence. Something the Capitol hasn't been able to steal from her yet.

The thought of the Capitol causes me to clench my jaw; this is the only thing that keeps me from punching a wall. My hatred towards them is something that has only increased as I grew up. While most girls dreams are filled with sugar fairies and all the f*cking girly stuff; my dreams are filled with images of the Capitol burning to the ground. With the ashes blowing in the wind as the pillars of smoke swirl into the air. I know many swear to bring them down, but I have the drive to do so.

"Your such a liar, but thanks anyways," I force a small smile that I only allow a very few select people to see.

"I'm not lying! You'll be the prettiest girl at the reapings," She gives my hand a light squeeze as a way to wish me luck before she lets go.

"I'll see you once the reapings are over," I ruffle her hair and walk out the door to meet up with my loser of a best friend.

Relief washes over me as another girl's name is called out to participate in their games. I stand on my tip toes in an attempt to look over the rest of the sixteen year olds around me. Standing at only 5'2 people always blocked my view. It is something I have grown accustomed to, but being this short still annoys me from time to time. The girl has already burst into tears if only she realized the mistake she is making. People like the careers will label her as weak and target her. Looks like District 6 will have another tribute to add to our never ending list of bloodbath victims.

My ears are more alert as our escort dips his hand into the reaping bowl containing the names of the males in our District. I breathe in sharply as he opens that small slip of paper. I can only pray that Collin's name is not written on it. As much as I hate to admit it I do have a soft spot for that twerp.

"The male tribute from District 6 for this year's Annual Hunger Games is Collin Wrathers!" The booming voice of our escort hits me and I don't even hesitate as I shove my way to the front of the crowd.

"Get the f*ck out of my way!" I yell as I literally knock a girl to the ground. "I volunteer as the female tribute!" That boy wouldn't even survive past the bloodbath without me by his side.

I tug relentlessly at the small yarn bracelet that is wrapped around my wrist. My sister gave it to me four years ago after our father passed away. She said it symbolizes that she will always be there for me, but now I've gone and volunteered and can no longer be there for her. I tap my foot restlessly as I await the few people who will come to say goodbye.

The door opens and I can already tell the soft sobs that drift into the room belong to my sister. I look up and much to my surprise my mother walks in after her. Rose says nothing as she launches herself into my arms and just cries into my shoulder.

I look up at my mother my eyes cold, "You will listen to me right now and do not interrupt me. You are going to stop being a selfish b*tch and are going to start looking after your child. I will not be here anymore to make sure she has had enough to eat or to make sure she gets to school on time. You will start playing the role of a mother again. Do not question what it is I am doing. Collin will need me in that arena; while Rose will need you here. Do you understand?" I say all this as more of a command than anything else.

My mother nods softly and looks down at the floor, "I understand."

"Be brave," Rose whispers as they both leave the room.

I don't really have a choice when it comes to bravery in the arena. If I'm not brave I will be slain and I will not allow that to happen.

**Collin ****Wrathers point of view.**

I cross out yet another equation; why does math have to be so hard?

I only look up when my younger sister Kalli bursts into the room, "Collin are you really still doing homework? We don't even have school today," She walks over to me and peers over my shoulder.

"You're doing it all wrong; no wonder you failed a grade," She snickers as I close my book.

"You know I failed a grade on purpose so I could be in the same grade as Nel. That way I can pester her all day long," I say this with a lopsided grin on my face.

Kalli just rolls her eyes as she walks towards the door, "You might want to clean up before the reapings. You smell kind of funky."

When she finally leaves the room I lift up my arm and smell my armpit. I instantly wrinkle my nose in slight disgust. I think funky was an understatement. I quickly clean myself up and get changed into my reaping outfit. I struggle to do up the last few buttons on my shirt. I swear this shirt shrunk or maybe I grew? I shake out my sandy blonde hair and walk downstairs.

My home is always full of noise; I mean with six kids running around it would be abnormal if my house was ever quiet. I just about trip on a misplaced book and end up smacking my head off the wall in my attempt to keep my balance.

"You darn crazy kids are going to near kill me one day with you shenanigans!" I laugh as I kick the book belonging to one of my siblings to the side.

"Ha Collin you have stains on your pants!" My other sister Sarah taunts me.

All I do is shrug as I open the front door, "Each stain has its own story. This one is from when Nel pushed me into the grass." I point to a faded green grass mark. "This one is from when I got to try ice cream for the first time. Kind of a waste that I dropped some of it on myself," I point to another stain.

"Okay, I get it no need to go telling me this big long story," Sarah rolls her eyes as I walk out the door.

I blink a few times trying to adjust to the harsh light that floods my eyes. I am always told my eyes are my most attractive feature. A breath taking blue that always seems to be sparkling in the light.

I walk towards the square to meet up with Nel when my foot catches on a loose stone and I am sent crashing to the ground.

"Let me guess that is the fifth time you have tripped over your own feet today Wrathers?" I look up and grin at my best friend. She won't admit it out loud, but I know Nel loves me. I look up to her like a big sister even if she is a year younger than I am, but I only see that as a technicality.

"You know I fall on purpose just so you have to help me up," I reach my hands up to her like I am a small child instead of a seventeen year old who stands at 6'1.

"You are quite capable of helping yourself up," I laugh lightly as she starts to walk away. I stand up and catch up with her and playfully poke her in the ribs.

"Oh come on Blue, lighten up a little bit,"

"You know your optimism can get really annoying sometimes."

"It's not annoying; it's inspirational!" I grin over at her as she just shakes her head.

"Sometimes I really question why I am friends with you. Now go get yourself signed in before you get yourself hurt," She shoves me in line and I get myself signed in and head over to the seventeen year old section.

I casually rest my hands behind my head as I pay somewhat attention to our escort's yearly speech. Most would think I would be nervous right now because of how many times my name is entered in the reaping jar this year. After my father left being the oldest it was expected of me to help take care of my family. Signing myself up for tesserae was the only way I knew how to help.

"The female tribute for this year's Annual Hunger Games is Josie Harrington!" I watch as a girl I recognize from school shuffles sadly towards the stage tears already streaming down her face. I really dislike seeing people so distraught like this. But this is the Capitol's will and there isn't allot I can do about it. Nel rants about the Capitol at least once a day, so I know they must be no good. I may not hate them as much as Nel, but I don't think anyone can hate them as much as she does.

"Now onto the males!" I close my eyes and listen to the wind whistle through the square, "The male tribute from District 6 for this year's Annual Hunger Games is Collin Wrathers!" Huh, I didn't know there was another Collin Wrathers in this District. I snap my eyes open as someone pushes me forward. Oh wait I am Collin Wrathers!

"Oh, well this sucks," I say out loud as I walk towards the stage.

"Get the f*ck out of my way!" I volunteer as the female tribute!" I turn in the direction of Nel's voice as she walks next to me.

"Nel what do you think you doing?" I ask her.

"You really think you would last more than ten seconds in that arena on your own?" She says this as she walks up onto the stage with me following close behind her.

"The names Nelira Blue," She tells all of Panem as the crowd cheers lightly for their newest tributes.

I turn to face her and shake her hand, "And you say I'm an idiot."

"You are an idiot Collin." Nel says as she lets go of my hand.

Being a part of the Games alongside Nel is something I never expected to happen. I just hope they have good food in the Capitol to help make up for this.

**Well those two are complete opposites, but every Games needs a comic relief like Collin ;P **

**Now onto the trivia question!**

**How old is Haymitch Abernathy during the first book?**

**The first to answer correctly will receive six sponsor points and the next three to answer correctly will receive four sponsor points!**


	8. District 7 Reapings

**The answer to my last trivia question was: 40.**

**The receivers of those points ****were ****Fleur-WickedWitchOfBeauxbatons**** who answered first and got six sponsor points. The following three each received four sponsor points: ****HungerGamesPercyJackson2k12**** QueenOfSwordsAndFire, and Sweet 'lil Mockingjay****. **

**District 7:**

**Ayla Treleve's point of view.**

Not many can understand the complete feeling of serenity I feel wash over me in waves as I sit perched up high in a tree. Sometimes I can't even fully grasp this feeling of peace that seems to blanket the area around me. My eyes are glazed over as I am intertwined in a world of fantasy as I read my favorite book. With the way the sun reflects off the glossy leaves bathing me in a soft green glow and with the sweet smell of pine lingering in the air I am able to forget about the world around me.

It's not that I want or need to forget, but more that I crave to dive into worlds so unlike my own. Worlds were kids are not forced to fight against one another till the death. Worlds were we don't live in fear of our government. Worlds where good always triumphs over evil. A place where happily ever happy does exist.

I look up as a vibrant green leaf falls gracefully towards me. I let out a small breath and watch as it spins into the air and continues its journey towards the ground. They were always right; what goes up must come down. As much as I would rather stay above the world hidden deep in my own fantasies.

I glance up at the baby blue sky a dream like look still glistening in my eyes. I have always been drawn to the sky. It is always there; changing yet not changing at the same time. It is one of the few things that are permanent in my life. It may be the mystery that shrouds it that draws me closer. I reach my hand up towards the sky and stretch out my fingers as the warmth from the sun seems to dance across my skin.

I hum softly to myself as I tuck my book under my arm and climb back down towards the ground with ease. I have spent almost my entire life up in the trees on my own. I always enjoyed being alone rather than surround myself with people. There's just something about the silence that allows my mind to branch off to the unseen depths of my mind that I enjoy.

I have always been independent even when I was only a child. My feet hit the ground and sink slightly into the lush grass. I smile softly as the wind blows lightly through my hair and walk towards my home. I skip from cobble stone to cobble stone keeping my worries at bay. I know exactly how many cobble stones I must walk across to reach my home. As I walk the path from my home to the woods and back again frequently.

I push open the front door and the chatter of my parents drifts from the kitchen. I walk upstairs to my bedroom to get myself ready for the reapings. I stand in front of the mirror and brush out my raven black hair until it rolls off my shoulders like a sleek inky waterfall. My rich brown eyes still have that dreamy look to them as I observe my reflection. I'm not exactly pretty, but I wouldn't label myself as ugly either. I have the kind of face that would be easily forgotten or overlooked.

I shimmy into a knee length tan dress that makes me appear tanner then I already am. My skin has grown slightly darker from spending long days working outside. I took up a job not because I really needed the money, but more out of boredom than anything else. It also gives me an excuse to spend more time outside. I tie a tiny green sash around my waist and slip into my black ballet flats.

I run my fingertips over my book one last time longing to just curl up on my bed and let the words fly off the page and carry me into another world. I let out a small sigh as I leave my room and descend the stairs.

"Sweetie are you off to the reapings?" My mother's voice reaches my ears as I past the kitchen.

I stop and spin on my toes to face my parents, "Yes, I can't be late."

"I have something to give you before you go," My mother stands up and takes my hand. She places something cool to the touch into my palm. I look down and see her most treasured possession; a silver ring with a single sapphire gem. "For good luck," My mother smiles softly as I string the ring onto a chain that I always wear around my neck.

"Well good luck dear. We will see you in a little while," My father gives me a small smile as I turn and walk out the door. I stretch out my arms as I skip down the front steps two at a time. I count each step I take out of a force of habit until I reach the town square.

I take careful steps making sure to stay out of everyone's way as I get myself signed in. I make my way over to the sixteen year old section and take my place among the sea of faces. Among this sea my face would surely be forgotten.

My mind drifts in and out of different images of stories I have read as our escort takes the stage. I never liked the Capitol, but yet I am still mesmerised by the colors, lights and all the people. My mind continues to float in and out of attention until I hear those few words, "The female tribute from District 7 for this year's Annual Hunger Games is Ayla Treleve!"

My mind suddenly sharpens back to focus as a cascade of emotions seem to press down onto me. Anger seems to boil in my blood. Why did I have to be chosen? Out of the sea of faces why was the one who is easily forgotten selected? Tears steadily flow down my cheeks as I take a few steps forward towards the stage. I don't want to die, but then again who does?

**Hadrian Xander's point of view.**

The water seems to surround my very being pressing down on me with tremendous pressure. I try to reach my hand out towards the shore, but the water wraps its icy hands around my ankles and drags me under. I struggle to breath, but only small desperate gasps seem to be able to escape my lips. I feel so helpless as the deep blue's fill my lungs. I thrash around wildly until I feel as if I'm falling and hit something solid.

I snap my eyes open and take in my familiar surroundings. "It was only a dream," I mutter to myself as I realize I fell out of bed. Ever since I was young the same dream plagues my sleep. You almost drown once and this is the result. I turn my attention towards the door when I hear the light sound of footsteps against the floorboards. I sit up rubbing the back of skull as I look up to see my younger sister Molly.

"Hadrian mom says to get your lazy butt out of bed otherwise you're going to be late!" My sister chirps sweetly from my bedroom door. She looks up to me and follows me around all over the District. As much as this gets on my nerves I am still protective of her. She is only nine years old and has yet to really be affected by the harshness that taints the edges of our world.

She tilts her head to the side and quirks her lip up in slight amusement as she looks at me, "Wouldn't sleeping on the floor be uncomfortable?"

"I didn't sleep on the floor; I fell out of bed," I say to her as she giggles.

"Silly Hadrian! Just get ready because you have to leave in twenty minutes," She twirls around and skips back down the hall. She doesn't seem to really grasp how important today is. In less than an hour someone's fate will be sealed as they are shipped off to the Capitol.

I always hated the Capitol, but I am only one of many. I am not out spoken about my hate; it is something I mostly keep to myself. I have accepted the fact that the Games will always exist and anyone who thinks otherwise is just lying to themselves.

I push myself up off the floor and walk over to my dresser searching for anything that will be somewhat acceptable for the reapings. I pull on a pair of worn jeans and do up the buttons of my shirt. I sit down on my bed and pull on my leather boots one at a time.

I stand up to leave, but quickly run back into my room and grab my leather bracelet with my District's seal and slip it over my wrist. I run down the stairs and wave quickly to my family before I dash out the door not wanting to be late.

As I walk I catch my reflection looking back up at me in a clear puddle of water which I step over not wanting it to make contact with my skin. My hazel eyes give the illusion of being under control, but I can't deny the feeling of butterflies that soar through my stomach.

This is just a normal feeling I silently repeat to myself as I get myself signed in. I wave in greeting to several people from school as I make my way over to the fifteen year old section. My eyes drift longingly towards the woods that line the horizon. My body longs to be hidden among the trees as the leaves seem to caress my face. I continue to stare thoughtfully towards the woods as the reapings begin.

I can hear the sound of our escort's voice droning in the back of my mind, but I don't register a single word he says. It's always the same thing every year anyways. Today we shall pick one brave young man and one courageous young lady to have the great honor of representing District 7 in this year's Annual Hunger Games. In translation that is today we are here to pick two poor kids tear them away from their friends and families and prepare them to be sent into the arena to be slaughtered.

I turn my gaze back to the stage as our escort opens the small slip of paper containing the name of the female tribute, "The female tribute from District 7 for this year's Annual Hunger Games is Ayla Treleve!"

A girl I don't recognize steps away from the crowd tears flowing freely down her cheeks as she walks towards the stage. As expected nobody volunteers. Just a few more minutes and I can escape to the woods. I watch closely as our escort reaches into the reaping bowl and pulls out the name of the male tribute, "The male tribute from District 7 for this year's Annual Hunger Games is Hadrian Xander!"

Fear crushes my lungs as I stop breathing for a few brief moments. How is it possible that my name was chosen? I have never had to take out tesserae. My name was only in there a total of four times yet my name still hangs in the air around me. I keep my face cold as stone as I refuse to show weakness to anyone, especially the people of the Capitol.

I walk up the steps of the stage each footstep seeming to send shocks through my entire body.

"Please give your tributes Ayla Treleve and Hadrian Xander a round of applause!" Our escort's strong voice booms out as applause ripples through the crowd.

I turn to face Ayla and shake her hand as tears continue to stain her cheeks. I can't afford to show weakness as she does.

**Finally I am finished the District 7 reapings! This chapter took me allot longer than the others, but oh well it's done! Now tell me what you think in a review ^^**

**And on with the trivia question!**

**Why does President Snow's breath smell of blood?**

**The first to answer correctly will receive six sponsor points and the next three to answer correctly will receive four sponsor points!**


	9. District 8 Reapings

**The answer to my last trivia question was: He drank poison which resulted in mouth sores that leave the stench of blood.**

**The receivers of those points ****were Munamana who answered first and got six sponsor points. The following three each received four sponsor points: ****Fleur-WickedWitchOfBeauxbatons****, ****DonPianta****, ****and ****Quinn-Franklin****.**

**District 8:**

**Rylinn Abrith's point of view.**

"Get back here Abrith!" The sound of my name being called out of a Peacekeeper's mouth is something that is not new to me.

The sound of my footsteps against the pavement blended with my even breathing is all I focus on. My dark hair flies out behind me in soft inky waves as the wind whips past me. All I can do is laugh as the shouts from the Peacekeepers grow farther away; I have never been caught once. It's not my fault that a sixteen year old girl can easily outrun a full grown man that is supposed to be fit. I mentally roll my eyes at the stupidity that are these people who are supposed to protect our country. If they can't handle a single female then how do they expect us to believe that they can handle anything?

"You guys should really cut back on the sweets then maybe one day you'll be able to catch me!" I call over my shoulder as I glance at the tall boy running next to me with a slight smirk on my face. Cain has been my partner in crime for as long as I can remember even though even he has the ability to get on my nerves.

We scale the side of a one story home and lay low along the roof tiles. The sun beats down on my back as I watch the Peacekeepers run right past our little hide out. Even from up here they look small; like tiny ants running around with their antenna's cut off with no sense of direction. I have to bite my lip to stifle the laughter from this mental image.

"What are you laughing at, or have you finally gone mad?" Cain turns to me with a raised eyebrow.

I quickly stop my pointless laughter and plaster my trade mark scowl on my face, "Only someone as mad as myself could have executed that prank flawlessly."

A small smile creeps across Cain's lips at my words, "How you got your hands on those fireworks I will never know."

I shrug lightly as I stand up wiping the dust off my shirt with no intentions of spilling my secrets to him. Where's the fun in life if you can't have a little mystery? I walk over to the edge of the roof and peer out over the District. It's not exactly what I would call a breath taking view, but it's still home. I have always walked these streets as if I owned them; nobody messes with Rylinn Abrith unless they are looking for trouble.

I crack my knuckles casually before I step over the ledge and land gracefully on the ground in a crouched position. I hear Cain land next to me, but don't pay much attention to him as I squint up at the sky at the sun gleaming in that soft blue canvas. I wonder if the sky always looks the same no matter where you go, or if it appears different in the eyes of another.

"You should probably head home to get ready for the reapings Ry," Cain's voice flits around me as I turn to him my gaze fixed on him in a steady glare.

"Don't tell me what to do Cain," I say this even though I know he is right, but I would never admit it. I have always hated being told what to do and that is not about to change anytime soon.

Before he can even respond I begin to walk away; my caramel figure fading further away into the distance in his eyes. I stalk silently along the alleyways sure to stay hidden from the prying eyes of any Peacekeepers who are lurking the streets. Most would be in the town square as the reapings are starting in less than half an hour, but I could care less.

I finally see my small home in the distance and make a final sprint towards it. I place my hand on the smooth surface of my home as I have done plenty of times before and easily slide the window to my bedroom open. I shimmy through the small open and land on the ground without disturbing the silence that creeps steadily through the walls.

I breathe out slowly as I approach my dresser. I make no efforts to dress myself up like some sort of show animal for the Capitol's enjoyment. I pull on a pair of tight black jeans and slide a simple grey shirt over my head with ease. The material clings to my smooth flesh as my eyes flicker in the faint light that drifts in through the window tainted with dust; with neglect. My eyes are a plain green, but appear almost cat like; always observing and filled with a fiery fierceness that not many can posses.

I slip back out my bedroom window not wanting to face my mother who I know would be waiting in the living room; the perfect place to intercept me and tell me everything that is wrong with me. In her eyes the only thing that should matter to a person is outward appearances. To believe that beauty is everything is foolish. Beauty can only get one so far; sheer determination and will power is something that is much dearer to me. I would rather have a mouth that is willing to speak its opinion than one that is smeared in lip gloss.

I shake my head at all the girls who have dressed themselves up to be "presentable" as I get myself signed in. The need to impress others seems pathetic in my eyes. Why should I change who I am to please others? I shove a few girls out of my way as I find my spot nestled among the other sixteen year old females in my District.

I turn everything off as our escort who is dressed grotesquely I might add takes the stage. I could care less about what these people have to say; can I even really classify them as people? They look so alien compared to the rest of us; something that doesn't seem to be from our world. I find myself picking at the dirt that has worked its way under my nails leaving dark stains on my fingers that my mother would surely frown upon as I hear something that steals my attention, "The female tribute for District 8 is Rylinn Abrith!"

The moment my name slams into my conscious I feel my anger begin to broil its way to the surface as my temper begins to show. That red hot anger coils its way around my veins making it possible for me to focus as I am shoved forwards; forced to play these Games I want no part of.

**Shohn Vekriss's point of view.**

I stare blankly up at the ceiling as the morning sun creeps its way into my room slicing apart the darkness that was once there. Another day that will seem to drag by; each minute seeming longer than the one before it. I take in a deep breath and blow out disturbing the air around me. I watch transfixed on the small particles of dust that seem to dance through the air.

I am almost jealous as they gently float back down coating the surface of the floor in a light grey dusting. How carefree they are; not a worry in the world. I trace delicate patterns into my bedding as I begin to count each second that ticks on by; one second, two seconds, three seconds. The seconds are never ending; they will never cease to exist until I finally release my hold on this life.

My eyes graze across my room where a fine coil of rope lays discarded on the floor. How easily I could take that thin rope and let it grasp around my flesh as I gasp for air. I close my eyes tightly and let memories of my family flood my mind; the only way I know how to block out these thoughts that try to creep their way it my mind. They slither their way through the crevices of my mind like a serpent bent on slowly drawing out its prey's death.

I gasp out lightly and quickly sit up. I run my hand through my short black hair with shaky hands. I take a few more moments to regain control of myself before I stand up. I slowly get myself ready as the fear for today's events begins to eat away at my insides. Eating away at my conscious like a wolf who hasn't tasted the sensation of blood dance across its tongue in days. I blink rapidly trying to rid the image of torn flesh filled with small maggots working their way through the mangled body of an animal's carcass from my mind.

I lean heavily against the wall as I walk downstairs feeling as if I am close to spilling over the edge. I wonder what would await me after I finally jumped over the edge. Would there be anything at all, or just a dark abyss threatening to crash down around me. As soon as I reach the bottom of the stairs I see my twin sister Nattie and I can't stop the small smile that forces its way onto my features. The moments my normal straight lined mouth spreads into a smile are rare and few, but they happen never the less.

"Shohn are you ready to go?" She smiles reassuringly as she extends her hand towards me. Nattie and I have an indescribable connection and sometimes I wonder if she can read my mind. She is able to read me like an open book and I can't get anything past her.

I take her small delicate hand in my rough large one, "I'm as ready as I'll ever be."

After a brief talk with our parents that mainly consisted of them wishing us luck we walk outside into the harsh light of the afternoon sun. I can feel myself tense up as we approach the town square and my hand tightens around Natties.

"Shohn just relax okay," She says this is that soothing voice of hers that washes over me instantly calming my nerves, but I know this effect won't last forever.

I nod slowly as I glance over at her, "We'll both be okay right?" I ask her this needing the reassurance; I need to know that we will both be safe by the end of the hour.

"We'll both get through this I promise," I let the silence swirl around us as we get ourselves signed in. We part ways and I shuffle towards the fourteen year old section. My heart rate slowly starts to increase with every step our escort takes towards the front of the stage. The moment she opens her mouth I close my eyes quickly as if I could see the sharp words that will lead closer to the announcement of two young people's deaths spill out of her lips and float along the gentle breeze.

I kick at a small pebble and watch it skitter across the ground; how easily it is pushed around much like myself. I breathe out softly as I let my eyes wander towards the stage, ""The female tribute for District 8 is Rylinn Abrith!" A string of curses instantly rings out into the air drowning out any other sounds in the town square. I watch as the girl has to be dragged towards the stage and am confused slightly when she tries to fight back. What is the point of even trying? The Capitol has suppressed us this long; they can handle one small girl from District 8.

I look away as she continues to struggle from the Peacekeeper's grasps and the escort tries to regain control over the crowd. The silence once again washes over everyone and only the sounds of uneven breathing can be heard. She dips her hand into the glass bowl and holds up that one small slip of paper. I wonder whose name could be written on it.

"The male tribute for District 8 is Shohn Vekriss!" My breath catches in my throat as everything around me literally stops. The trees fall still and so does every pair of eyes trained on me. My body begins to tremble softly as swirls of black dance across my vision. I feel hands guiding me towards the stage, but I can barely see where it is I'm going. I don't take in any of my surroundings, but remain in this state of confusion and blindness. Maybe this is all but a dream and once I regain my vision I will be back in my room. I swallow back my fear knowing I am only lying to myself.

**Alright, so I am drawing closer to the end of the reapings! Ya'll better be as pumped for the Games as I am because I have some interesting ideas ;) Now review! ;D**

**Here is your sponsor question for this chapter!**

**What District is the tribute who is missing half of his arm who participated in the 75****th**** Annual Hunger Games from?**

**The first to answer correctly will receive six sponsor points and the next three to answer correctly will receive four sponsor points!**


	10. District 9 Reapings

**The answer to my last trivia question was: District 11.**

**The receivers of those points ****were ****Sweet 'lil Mockingjay**** who answered first and got six sponsor points. The following three each received four sponsor points: ****the epic bookworm****, ****Munamana**** and**** DonPianta.**

**District 9:**

**Astoria Delacorte's point of view.**

I watch transfixed as my long locks of hair blow around me in some form of dance; creating the illusions of inky waves shimming across the wind. They twist around in sweet curls and for a moment they almost look serpent like with sharp tongues and glistening yellow eyes. I blink once and this image is gone once more. I lean a little further out of my bedroom window breathing in deeply the sweet scents that hang in the air; the scent of fresh bread weighs heavily down on me. I lick my lips lightly as the smells swarm me and my stomach growls in response.

I lift up my hand and let the breeze play through my fingers; relishing in the sensation of the cool wind against my skin. I close my eyes for a brief second wanting to pause this moment if only for a few more seconds, but I know one cannot control time. I hear my name being called from the floor below me and I know soon it will be time to leave for the reapings. Being the mayor's daughter I am not that worried for today's events. My name is only entered a total of four times and the odds really are in my favor.

I unwillingly close my window cutting off the cool breeze and I already long to feel it caressing my skin again. I let out a small sigh as I walk with dainty steps over to my dresser and begin riffling through my array of outfits. I run my fingertips lightly across the soft fabrics of cotton and silk until I come across one dress that grabs my attention.

I pull out a simple white sundress that will give the wearer the appearance of innocence. I slip the cool material over my head and let the fabric cling softly to my skin as I slip my feet into a pair of black ballet flats. I walk with quiet steps over to my dresser and observe my image for a moment. My large brown eyes remind me of the deep colors of chocolate and they really are the only feature I have that is capable of drawing attention. The rest of my features are plain, but this never really mattered to me. I slide a light blue headband into my hair that stands out against my dark hair.

I walk out of my room and skip down the steps pausing in the kitchen door for a few brief moments. I gaze upon the scene of my parents sitting casually at the table passing news between each other.

"Your sister and Natalie are waiting outside for you dear," My mother turns to me with a slight smile on her face. Natalie has been my best friend for as long as I can remember. I try to rack my mind for memories of a time when we weren't friends, but I cannot come up with one.

My father stands up and walks over to me placing his hand on my shoulder, "You be brave today Astoria."

I reach up on my tip toes and give my father a quick peck on the cheek, "Don't worry dad I'm sure the odds are in my favor."

A small grimace plays across his features as I turn my back to him and walk out the front door. The wind ambushes me as I squint against the bright light in the direction of where my twin sister Wren stands talking with Natalie. I take a few steps towards them and their voices are carried towards me on the waves of the wind as they are still unaware of my presence.

"Natalie you know you really should stop hanging around Astoria; she can't be trusted," My sister Wren's voice swirls around me in the air and I frown slightly at her words. Why would she be telling my best friend to stay away from me?

"I don't understand why you keep trying to convince me that she's not trustworthy," Natalie says.

"There is something off about her; you can't deny it. You know there's that other side to her; something dar-" She stops suddenly as her eyes fall onto my figure.

"What are you guys talking about?" I ask them not letting them know I heard part of their conversation. Their conversation doesn't make much sense to me as there is nothing wrong with me right? I have always had this feeling that there is this other part of me that is kept hidden from the world, but I tend to ignore this feeling.

"O-Oh nothing we were just talking about last year's Games," Wren smiles at me acting as if she wasn't just talking about her own sister.

I shrug this off not letting it bother me as I take both of their hands in mine and begin walking towards the town square.

"Let's not bother talking about something that is in the past," We reach the square and get ourselves signed in. I wince lightly as they take my blood from the small puncture wound that has been scarred into my skin.

We make our way over to the fifteen year old section and I stand on my tip toes and watch as my father along with our escort takes the stage. I could recite my father's yearly speech by now word for word having heard it several times before today. I fiddle with the hem of my dress as our escort reaches her hand into the reaping jar. I wonder how much history that jar holds? How many names have been entered into its depths; how many diverse people have fallen victim to the jars games. I breathe out as I fix my eyes on the small slip of paper held tightly in the grasp of our escort, "The female tribute of District 9 for this year's Annual Hunger Games is Astoria Delacorte!"

I notice my father's face pale as my name is called out and I'm sure mine has as well. I turn to Wren and lightly squeeze her hand before I have to tear my eyes away from the pain and sadness written across her features. I tremble slightly in shock as I make my way towards the stage; how was it that my name was chosen? I keep my eyes fixed on the ground knowing I was never meant for battle.

Something deep inside me stirs the monster that is hidden in my depths that is unknown to me. While I am frightened for the events to follow she is rejoicing in excitement. She wants to spill and taste the metallic tinge of blood; she wants to force every possible scream out of the lungs of her victims. The beast inside me Nika is ready for these Games. She is ready to bathe herself in the scarlet blood of her victims.

**Nathan "Nate" Ripley's point of view.**

I keep the still warm loaf of bread tucked protectively under my arm as if I am afraid of losing it. I have worked hard my entire life to keep food on the table and today of all days I will make sure my family is fed. I don't pay much attention to the world that seems to blur on past me. My long dark hair falls into my face as I walk obscuring my vision slightly and I blow lightly disturbing the air around me so it falls back into place away from my eyes. Each step I take is familiar; how many times have I walked this path from the bakery?

The amount of times I have walked this path increased once my father died and I became in charge of looking after my family. I breathe out lightly as the memory that is the night my father was publically whipped to death plays across my mind. The tear stained faces of my mother and younger sister will forever be pressed into my mind. From that day on I made a promise to myself to make sure they never went hungry.

I push open the front door and one of my rare smiles forces its way onto my lips as my seven year old sister comes bounding down the hallway. "Nate, you're finally home!" She lightly takes my hand and practically drags me down the hall. "Mom has been asking for you," At these words her tone softens and she looks up at me with eyes filled with slight confusion. She is still young and doesn't quite understand what is wrong with our mother, but neither do I.

I drop off the loaf of bread in the kitchen and make my way towards my mother's room. I walk inside and a frown tugs lightly at my lips at the sight of her pale and weak body. After my father died she fell into this state of sickness and has made next to no progress of getting better. I bite my lip softly as I kneel down next to her bed, "Mandy said you were asking for me."

She nods softly as she reaches over taking my hand; the moment her skin makes contact with my own I feel as if my flesh has been dosed in ice water, but I refuse to pull my hand away. "I-I wanted to wish you luck for today," Her voice is raspy and weak, but this tone is not new for her.

"I'll be fine mom I don't need luck," My voice sounds surer then I feel. This is my final year that I am eligible to be reaped, but how many times has my name been entered this year? My father refused to allow me to take out tesserae when I was younger, but when he passed away I no longer had a choice. I try to remember how many times I took out tesserae over the last four years and my name must be entered roughly about thirty times. I swallow knowing the odds are not in my favor this year.

"Everyone needs a little bit of luck," For someone who has been plagued by sickness for so long she still holds onto some of her wisdom from her youth.

I lightly run my fingers along the ring that used to belong to my father; my mother gave it to me once he passed away. It is the only piece of him I have left. "Y-You had better be off to the reapings soon Nathan; I'll be f-fine here on my own for a little while," She weakly squeezes my hand once as she closes her eyes; looking almost peaceful in her sleep.

I stand up and silently leave the room. I now stand in my room with my cold blue eyes piercing through me as I gaze into my reflection. They are filled with a determination that seems to be coated in a shell. I restlessly tap my fingers against my dresser as I mentally prepare myself for the reapings. Just one last reaping I can make it through this; I repeat this silently to myself over and over again as I walk out of my room and down into the front hall.

"Don't you look handsome," Mandy chirps as she takes my hand leading me outside. The tufts of grass that stick out at odd angles through the cobblestones crunch lightly under our feet as we reach the town square. Mandy tightens her hold on my hand as a way to make sure she doesn't get lost in the crowd.

As I reach the line to sign in she tugs on my hand causing me to come to a halt. I kneel down in front of her and place both my hands on her shoulders, "I'll meet you back here after the reaping okay?"

She looks up at me with eyes full of fear as she speaks quietly, "Promise me you won't get reaped."

I know this is a promise I may not be able to keep, but I allow those two simple words to roll off my tongue anyways, "I promise."

She breathes out a sigh of relief as she hugs me, "I'll see you in a little bit." She then walks off to the section closed off for those who do not reach the reaping ages. I get myself signed in and wait in the eighteen year old section. I tower above most of the boys around me as my eyes are fixed upon the stage. The words that flow from our escort's mouth seem to be lost among the whistles of the wind as I hear none of the yearly speech. I barely pay attention as the female tribute makes her way towards the stage; all I care about is my name not being chosen.

I close my eyes and focus on anything but this very moment, but then I hear it my name being called out, "The male tribute from District 9 for this year's Annual Hunger Games is Nathan Ripley!" My thoughts instantly go to my family; what if I am to die who would take care of them then? What if my mother dies while I'm gone; what would become of my sister?

These questions swarm me as they blend in a sick melody with the desperate cries of my little sister. I walk towards the stage with the sound of my name being called out still ringing in my ears. I don't hear anything beyond this point as I turn to face my District partner.

As I shake her hand I see something ripple across the surface of her eyes; something hungry. Something tells me that there is more to this girl then a first glace would allow one to see. I take several deep breathes knowing I have no choice, but to win these Games.

**So what did you think of the District 9 tributes? I would be watching out for Astoria if I were you ;)**

**Now you know the drill review ;D**

**And onto the sponsor question!**

**What was the name of the girl that Haymitch Abernathy formed an alliance with during his Games?**

**The first to answer correctly will receive six sponsor points and the next three to answer correctly will receive four sponsor points!**


	11. District 10 Reapings

**The answer to my last trivia question was:** **Maysilee Donner****.**

**The receivers of those points****were****DonPianta**** who answered first and got six sponsor points. The following three each received four sponsor points:****Cato Mellark, KitKat2014 and** **MadolynMcGinty.**

**District 10: **

**Cassie Hughes point of view**

The feel of the powerful beast beneath me is familiar as I feel its muscles ripple from the impact of dirt beneath its hooves. I lean my body down willing the house into a canter. The breeze whips through my dark chocolate brown hair in soft waves. The feel of the winds gentle caress against my face forces a small smile to spread across the soft pink of my cracked lips. This is when I was in my element; when woman became one with the beast. The sound of the horse's hooves breaking the ground beneath us is the only sound that can be heard echoing across the ranch.

The early morning sun still hung low in the sky sending a faint warmth spreading across my back. The smile that remained etched across my lips didn't seem to fade as I brought the horse back to a slow trot. I ease the horse back into the stables easily sliding off his back. My boots hit the dirt with a light thud as I pat him gently, bringing him back into his stall.

I lean against the stall doors relishing in this moment of serene peace. I cling desperately onto this moment as I know it will not be able to last much longer. With the reapings looming overhead I must struggle to keep my stress at bay, as I cannot allow it to claim the best of me as it has many times before. The horse breathes softly next to me causing my hair to billow lightly around me. It always astounded me how animals could easily pick up on the change of the mood surrounding them.

I reach out with delicate fingertips patting him on the nose, letting him know there is nothing to worry about. Although the voice that edges along the outskirts of my mind keeps whispering that I have plenty to worry about in this moment. I shake my head lightly causing my scrunchy brown hair to wave around my heart framed face just in front of my vision.

I breathe out slowly sending my hair flying back into place. "I'll be back after the reapings for my shift," I whisper to the horse who perks his ears in my direction at the sound of my voice. For almost two years now I have worked at this ranch during after school hours, but on occasion I am allowed to come here in the morning just to ride.

I have been a hard worker all my life this was an aspect about myself that I valued. I didn't believe anyone should have what they wanted handed to them on a silver platter, but that it had to be earned. I snatch my clothes out of my bag and slip into one of the bathrooms to quickly change. I do up the last few buttons of my plaid shirt and smooth out my pencil skirt for what must have been the twelve time already. I slip into my black ballet flats and observe my reflection in the dusted mirror.

I brushed my hair away from my face working with quick nimble fingers, as I braid my hair down my back. My wide chocolate brown eyes resemble the same shade of my sisters. A soft smile tugs at my lips at the thought of her. She is the picture of innocence; untainted by the world around us. I remember a time when I used to hold that same innocence, but as one grows up it slowly fades into the distance to be lost among the howls of the wind. I walk briskly out of the ranch and stretch upwards towards the sky. The sun continues to spread a faint warmth through my entire being, as I make my way towards the town square.

I count the white puffs that are wisped across the vast blue canvas that stretches above me when I feel a soft jab in my ribs. I twirl around to walk backwards and stand face to face with my best friend Jack. I glance up at his tall scrawny form meeting his warm hazel eyes with my own gaze. He scrunches up his nose, as he walks next to me. "You smell like horses," His voice drips with his normal joking tone that always seemed to follow him around.

"That would be because I was at the ranch this morning smart one," I respond back to him, as I fall into step next to him. I feel his arm brush against my own and this sends a rivet of shivers crawling across my flesh. As of late I have been getting odd sensations such as this whenever Jack stood too close to me, but I couldn't understand the why to this. Jack was my best friend and that was all, but I couldn't help but ponder the idea that perhaps over all the years I had known him he had begun to mean more to me than that.

"I figured that's where you were this morning. Trying to clear your mind?" I nod softly at his words fully aware of just how well he knew me.

"Everything will turn out fine Cassie. You're a brave girl you'll make it through this," At his words I stood up on my tip toes kissing him lightly on the cheek. This display of affection sent a light blush spreading across both of our cheeks.

"I'll see you after the reapings," I say to him my blush still standing out prominently against my skin, as I jog over to get myself signed in.

I now stand in the sixteen year old section, blending into the sea of faces that swarm around me. A few girls bump into me, as a ripple of anticipation washes over the town square. I try to keep my mind focused trying to ignore the fact that I keep getting jostled around. I do not need to give into my temper snapping on those girls to stand their place. I breathe out silently, as our escort takes the stage.

I can almost hear my mother whispering into my ear in her haggard voice to keep my stress under control. I shouldn't have anything to stress about, my name is only entered five times in that drawing. Five times my name is written on a small delicate slip of paper being swirled around by the soft pink hand of our escort. My breath catches in my throat the moment that slip of paper is held high in the air. That small voice at the back of my mind continues to whisper in a haunting tone you have all the reasons to be stressed, that piece of paper could contain your name.

**Buck Wolfe's point of view**

I watch transfixed as the shimmering golden orb that is the sun slowly begins to rise above the horizon, casting gold tinted shadows across my family's ranch. Here sitting on top of the roof I can see almost everything. It's almost as if the entire District is at my disposal. Most would see living in a lower District as undesirable, but to me this is where I belong. I belong here on this ranch, here in District 10. I breathe out slowly, as I run my fingers over the patch of worn out leather I carry around with me almost everywhere. Most would see this token as foolish, but I see it more as a token of luck.

"It's scary to believe that for two people this is the last sunrise from home they will ever see," I turn my head towards the sound of my sister Leila's voice. Out of all four of my siblings her and I are the closest. We have some clashing aspects in our personalities, but we make a good team. At her words however a slight frown tugs at my lips, as I don't want to be one of the ones to think that way. I don't see the point in getting yourself worked up over some aspect of life we cannot change no matter how hard we try.

"Why must you think like that Leila? For all we know one of them could become the next Victor so this wouldn't be their last sunrise," I say this with a slight shrug of my shoulders. Leila and I both know that District 10 hasn't had a Victor in years, as the careers normally get their hands on them during the bloodbath, but I like to think that maybe one year someone will get lucky and get the chance to return home.

"I think like that because it is the most reasonable way to look at this situation," She returns my shrug with one of her own.

"Well then just hope you don't get reaped then; that way this isn't your last sunrise," Before she can respond I climb down the side of the roof and climb through my open bedroom window. The warmth of the sun still clings desperately to my body, as I throw on a pair of clean everyday clothes. I don't feel the need to impress anyone at the reapings so why should I bother dressing up like some doll for the cameras?

I look into the cracked mirror and my pale blue eyes stare back at me taking in my appearance. I blink once, as I run my hand through my short light brown hair. A feeling of excitement washes over me in silent waves, as I really start to process the thought that this is my final reaping. I have survived each draw up to this point, now all I have to do is make it through this one in one piece. I can hear the soft voices of the rest of my family creeping their way up the stairs to greet my ears. Whispers of good luck and we'll see you when you get back swarm me, as I turn to leave ready to finally move past this chapter of my life.

Here now I stand in the eighteen year old section my 6'4 form towering above the rest. I can easily see the stage set out before us, but my body remains relaxed. I catch the eyes of a few girls across the square and wink in their direction causing a ripple of giggles to be shared amongst them.

The seriousness that normally washes over each citizen of Panem at this moment seems to evade me, as my eyes watch our escort take the stage. I never really cared for the Capitol; I have always been more focused on my life here in District 10 then some place that will never be a part of my life. I watch the clouds that paint the sky in white wisps rather than to pay attention to the yearly opening speech. I have heard it time after time each year and by this point I'm sure I could give the speech myself.

Caught up in my own mind I miss the name of the female tribute being called out, but I watch the small girl walk free from the sixteen year old section. The look on her face was clear; she was in shock, as most would be in her situation, but I could see the look of bravery that she seemed to have forced to play across her features.

"Now onto the males," The sharp tone of our escort reaches my ears, as she reaches a soft pink hand into the reaping jar. The sheet of paper reflected in the paling light of the sun appears to taunt all the people around me, as if it is saying I may only be a slip of paper, but I hold more power than any of you will ever be able to possess.

"The male tribute from District 10 for this year's Annual Hunger Games is Buck Wolfe!" At the sound of my name being called out a feeling of dread shatters my insides. So much fear coils its way around my veins as it plays a sweet melody with the anger that begins to broil to my surface. I stand my ground not moving, as Peacekeepers begin to walk forward to bring me to the stage; to bring me to my death.

This was supposed to be it; my final reapings, but something has decided otherwise. There was so much in my life that I wanted to do, but even all of that has been stolen away from me, snatched clean from my clutches. I'll never get to watch my younger siblings grow up, nor have children of my own.

The moment I feel the Peacekeepers hand graze my shoulder something that could be classified as dangerous wavers across the surface of my eyes. My fist connects with his jaw before I even register what it is I am doing. Even I who am normally calm have my limits and this has pushed me over the edge. My hands are pinned to my back and I am forcefully brought up towards the stage. The entire town square is silent to the point you could hear a pin drop and clatter to the ground.

Anger continues to emit from my very being, as our escort tries to take control over the events once again. To be pushed to this point of blinding rage is something that could prove dangerous to those who stood in my path.

**And there you have it your District 10 tributes! I hope their okay :3**

**Sorry for the super slow update, but I will be trying to get back on track with this story!**

**Now onto the sponsor points question!**

**How many siblings does Rue have?**

**The first to answer correctly will receive six sponsor points and the next three to answer correctly will receive four sponsor points!**


	12. District 11 Reapings

**The answer to my last trivia question was: She had five siblings.**

**The receivers of those points were Sweet 'lil Mockingjay who answered first and got six sponsor points. The following three each received four sponsor points: the epic bookworm, Fleur-WickedWitchOfBeauxbatons and Munamana.**

**District 11:**

**Hadley June Chevalier's point of view**

I smooth out the wrinkles in my dress that seem to keep reappearing like gooseflesh. The light fuchsia fabric is cool to the touch, as I glance down at the scuffed boots I wear from years of use. I have worn these same boots to six separate reapings; six times before have I stood in this very same spot under the warmth of the beating sun that resides high above us in the crystal blue canvas.

I take in the sea of faces surrounding me and everything appears like a grid in my eyes; neat and organized. I breathe out slowly relishing in this quality that I possess which at times such as the reapings I am glad I hold onto to, as it allows my mind to stay sharp and focused.

"Welcome citizens of District 11 it's lovely to see all of you again for this year's Annual Hunger Games!" The sharp tongued voice of our escort washes over the town square, as I observe the way the sunlight reflects off her dusted blue skin. How odd it is the way the light seems to feed off her skin making the blue stand out more prominently.

I blink once honing my focus back onto the reapings taking place before me. I mentally recite the next words that are to roll off our escorts lips before they even are spilt into the wind around us; today we will be choosing one courageous young man and one brave young lady to represent your District in this year's Games.

"Today we will be choosing one courageous young man and one brave young lady to represent your District in this year's Games," Our escort says her voice sending static waves around us through the microphone.

Every year it is the same words that are spoken; the only difference is the people who are chosen. I have studied our government and I know more than anything that what they are forcing us into playing is wrong. I have been able to see the distinct inhumanity that is this form of entertainment that we call The Hunger Games. I glance up at the deep blue's of the sky knowing what I have is more than just a blind hatred that so many others seem to harbour.

I close my eyes, but the world around me is still active and almost visible. I can hear the sounds of feet shuffling against the ground and the sharp nervous breathes of those closest to me. I can feel the sun warming every inch of my body and I can feel the wind playing through my curly brown hair. My dark brown eyes only open at those few seemingly simple words that can hold so much fear if only for one person.

"The female tribute from District 11 for this year's Annual Hunger Games is Hadley Chevalier!" The sound of my name swirling about in the air around me is enough to send my mind into almost nothingness. For the first time in my seventeen year old life my mind has gone blank. I cannot formulate a single thought or emotion at this moment in time; everything is as this world started out to be, nothing.

As I am escorted forward this is when the events that have just taken place start to sink in and my mind begins to kick in once more. I need to look at every possible angle to these Games and formulate a way to win; a way to come back home to District 11. I could use an alliance if I found people of use to me or perhaps find a clever spot to conceal myself in the arena and wait for the rest of the tributes to kill themselves off. What a wonder it would be to be crowned victor without having the conscious of ending someone's life tainting my mind.

A weak feeble voice begins to creep its way into my mind, trying to give me that false hope that someone will volunteer for me, taking my place in these Games. I try to silence this voice pushing it away, but it only grows louder and louder as the reapings carry on. The moment I know nobody would willingly take my place soft silent tears begin to roll off my cheeks. I will be going into the arena alone with twenty three other kids who want to see me dead. At this thought the tears continue to glisten down my cheeks, as I know no matter how many strategizes I could possibly come up with there is still a higher chance that I will just be another girl of District 11 to have her blood spilt across the ground of the arena.

Now here I sit in a rich environment that only tributes ever get to see. Tears still stain my cheeks as I wait for my family to come and say their final goodbyes, but I have willed myself to calm down. I have to remain level headed if I want to give my family that small glimmer of hope that perhaps this won't be the last time they get the chance to lay their eyes upon me for who I still am, not the person the Capitol will try to warp me into being.

I glance up as the door opens and my fourteen year old sister Ariadne walks into the room guided by my older brother Pasha. One look into my sister's eyes and you can easily tell her vision is going; for a year now all her senses have been beginning to wither away, due to a disease that we cannot afford the medicine for. My parents stand in the doorway behind my siblings pain etched into their features.

Ariadne clumsily makes her way towards me and places her hands on my cheeks, as if she is making sure I am really there. "Hadley you're going to come back home soon right?"

"I'm going to try to make it back home," I say simply, as I have to fight to keep my emotions in check. My sister means the world to me, but I have never babied her the way the rest of the world does. I treat her just as I would anyone else; acting as if she really isn't different from the rest of us.

"No, you're not going to try, you are going to come home," Her tone is one of command, as if she is giving me no say in the matter. She hugs me tightly before my mother takes her from the room not wanting her to get too upset. I narrow my eyes at my mother's retreating form, as she barely said as much as a goodbye. Her and I haven't gotten along in years, but this could have very well been the last time I ever see her.

Now left alone with only my brother and my father are we forced to utter those words nobody ever wants to hear. Nobody wants to say goodbye until we are forced to. My mind continues to plan out strategies in ways I could possible make it back home, as the words goodbye roll off my tongue.

**Bryson Rhode Weatthers point of view**

I swing my thin legs over the edge of my bleak colored bed. My light brown eyes flit about the room, taking in the lack of colored used within the walls of the orphanage. I frown slightly at this and mentally make a list of berries and paints I could get my hands on to change this. I know I may have to steal the paint, but as long as I don't get caught then where is the harm in that. It may be a lose to others, but to me it is something I can gain even if it is only for something such as my own entertainment.

My mind falls to images I could smear across the walls, a part of me knowing the only reason I want to do this is to get on the nerves of Lilith. Lilith is the old stern woman who runs this orphanage and I have made it one of my goals in life to cause as many problems for her as I possibly can.

I slip into a pair of slightly frayed khaki pants, as my mind falls to the memory of the last time I was scolded for misbehaving. It happened only three days ago and I was in one of my moods where I have a desire to cause mischief.

I know every inch of this orphanage which I use to my advantage. I know exactly the best locations to wreck havoc upon the other kids I am forced to live amongst. My nimble hands moved quickly, as I set up the large bag of flour right above the door leading to the dining hall. My hands moved expertly about the rope creating a row of knots, which in my eyes screamed out perfection. The trap was seemingly simple; the moment the door was to be opened the knots would give way releasing the flour to fall upon its victims.

A mischievous look gleams in my eyes, as I run my tanned hand through my curly brown hair. I can clearly remember the looks of the group of girls that walked straight into my trap. The look of their flour stained bodies sent me into a burst of laughter. I could swear I laughed so hard a few tears formed in the corners of my eyes. They may not have found it amusing and the scolding I received from Lilith later that evening did not convince me otherwise, but I found it as nothing more than a small piece of entertainment.

Life is dull so why shouldn't I make things more interesting even if they are at other people's expense.

"Children it is time to head down to the town square for the reapings," The sharp tone of Lilith's voice drifts down the hallway, and as if we have been trained for this we all begin shuffling out of our rooms. I take in those closest to me and reach out grabbing a long strand of fine light brown hair of the girl walking in front of me. I tug lightly on the strand wanting her attention, but more than anything else I just want to annoy this girl.

"Bryson will you stop being such a pest," The girl in front of me says harshly, as she swats my hand away. In response I reach up once more, but this time pulling harder on her hair, just wanting to get a reaction out of her.

"I can't help it, it's in my blood," I say to her, as she once again swats my hand away, but this time she quickens her pace staying at least an arm's length away from me.

As I walk towards the town square I am careful to make sure I don't step on one of the many cracks that run in criss-cross patterns amongst the cobblestones.

"Step on a crack and break your mother's back," I say childishly, as I hop from cobblestone to cobblestone. I am signed in and ushered towards the fourteen year old section. I have to stand on my tip toes to catch a glimpse of the stage set out before us, as I stand a little bit on the shorter side. The way I see it though is the smaller I am the easier it is more me to get away quickly when I need to.

"Welcome citizens of District 11 it's lovely to see all of you again for this year's Annual Hunger Games!" I choose to ignore the sharp tones of our escort, as I can't be bothered to take the events that are about to play out seriously. Why should I bother when there is no way in hell my name could be chosen. I continuously poke the ribs of those closest to me until a bubble of empty space has been created around me.

"The female tribute from District 11 for this year's Annual Hunger Games is Hadley Chevalier!" I don't even pay attention to the older girl, as she is escorted towards the stage. She will most likely just end up being another lose to District 11.

I bounce up on the balls of my feet intent on wanting to head to the markets where I can swipe some paint to paint across my bedroom walls with. All that can be heard around the town square is the clicking noise of our escort's fingernails against the glass of the reaping jar.

"The male tribute from District 11 for this year's Annual Hunger Games is Bryson Rhode Weatthers!" The moment I hear my name being called out I slowly begin to back away from the crowd, millions of excuses as to why I must leave running across my mind.

"I have to go I forgot I left my house on fire!" As soon as these words spill from my lips I mentally curse at myself. Was that really the best excuse I could come up with? Peacekeepers grab hold of my elbows forcing me up towards the stage.

"I swear I'm not lying!" I continue to ramble on, as I am told to shake my partner's hand. I take the crying girls hand in my own, as I am sure she can feel just how much my body is trembling at this simple contact. I have never taken a single situation in my life seriously before, but now I may not have a choice.

**So let me know what you think about your District 11 tributes in a review ^^**

**Onto the sponsor question!**

**Who is Johanna Mason's district partner in the 75th Hunger Games?**

**The first to answer correctly will receive six sponsor points and the next three to answer correctly will receive four sponsor points!**


	13. District 12 Reapings

**The answer to my last trivia question was: Blight was Johanna Mason's district partner in the 75th Hunger Games.**

**The receivers of those points were MadolynMcGinty who answered first and got six sponsor points. The following three each received four sponsor points: ****DonPianta****, Munamana and Sweet 'lil Mockingjay.**

**District 12:**

**Bluebell Hart's point of view**

A wicked smile plays across my delicate features at the sight of the brilliant flame in front of me, devouring each blade of grass that gets in its way. The fire that stands at my feet is controlled and small, which causes a faint frown to etch its way across my lips. I long to watch the hot flames lick up along the sides of someone's home; burning away at its surface. I long to listen to the tortured screams of those trapped inside.

I close my eyes and breathe out slowly, the images of red blended in perfect harmony with orange and yellow flames dancing across the insides of my eyelids. I can feel the warmth of the fire against my skin and quickly stamp it out with soft footsteps.

I allow myself to fall back into the grass, but keep my eyes firmly shut. I reach my hand towards the never changing sky, longing to feel the warmth of flames licking across my skin. I can almost hear the angry roars of flames tearing away at anything that stands in their path. I ball my hands into fists, digging my fingernails into the earth below me. This addiction to cause destruction through the work of fire is something I have harbored ever since that night eight years ago today.

I open my wide crystal blue eyes that scream an innocence that I do not possess and watch the clouds that drift across my vision. I hold my stuffed rabbit close to my chest, as he is the only friend I really have. "Mr. Fluffiness you are the only one I can rely on besides myself now," I whisper in a voice that is as cool as ice, but smooth as glass. He has been the only one who has seen what it is I have done; the fires I have created with my own hands, the blood that is stained to my flesh. He is the only one who can keep these secrets carefully tucked away, to be unseen by prying eyes.

I love secrets; they are filled with so much mystery and can drown ones very being until there is nothing left. Eight years ago was when the secrets and rumours began to swirl around me. They whisper as I walk by clutching my rabbit in my grasps; they whisper there goes that unhinged girl Bluebell Hart. Perhaps they are the ones who are unhinged and I am the one who is sane. A soft giggle that is as sweet as the sounds of wind chimes blowing through the gentle breeze escapes my lips at this very thought. I am not sane, but this is something I have begun to learn how to embrace.

I run my fingertips lightly through the charred grass remembering how the ground of my home that once stood tall resembled this. I stand up gracefully and twirl across the grass, making my way towards the town square for the reapings that are to take place. My tattered blue dress billows in the wind around me, as it snakes its way through my blonde hair that wisps around me in delicate blonde waves. I remove the white ribbon that I had tied around Mr. Fluffiness's neck in one swift movement and use this to tie back my own hair.

The moment my foot makes contact with the cobbled streets of the town square many eyes are transfixed on my form. At a first glance one would never be aware of the true insanity I harbour. I smile sweetly at all those who I pass, as the image of their bodies being contorted by the heat of the crushing flames plays across my mind. I tighten my hold on Mr. Fluffiness, as my mind begins to reel in the madness I cling onto. Who would have thought one who looks so much like a fragile porcelain doll could have unraveled, as much as I have.

I barely wince at the stinging sensation, as they draw my blood from my body. What a waste of time spilling precious blood is; I would much rather watch everything go up in smoke and flames. I skip innocently towards the seventeen year old section and have to stand on my tip toes to look over the girls who almost tower above me. My height of 5'1 is something that I use to my advantage; being small is something I can use to force people into underestimating me. However I know that one can never judge based on looks alone. I know from personal experience how unhinged one can be beneath the surface.

I giggle in excitement the moment our escort takes the stage, as I already know what soft words will soon be rolling off my tongue. My hands twitch in anticipation the moment the static of the microphone tears its way through the town square. I find myself fantasising about how large the flames that could lick across the stage could be, as our escort goes on about our history. In my eyes are history is one that should be burnt to the ground and from the ashes a new area should be born. One where one such as myself won't have to listen to the whispers, a place where I can wreck havoc as I please.

I can see the girls around watching me, as my wild eyes dance across my surroundings. It's moments like these where I must appear under control, as I cannot allow my innocent facade to crumble around me. My eyes snap into focus the moment I see our mentor slipping his hand into that crystal clear jar that holds so many names.

Before that name can even be read I skip forwards breaking free of the crowd. "I volunteer!" My voice drips with innocence like an acid; something that cannot be ignored. With so many eyes trained on my delicate form that prances towards the stage, my hair bouncing with each step I take this is where I play up the roll of a girl who oozes nothing, but innocence. I twirl onto the stage Mr. Fluffiness still tucked safely beneath my arm.

I can see the several looks of confusion that seem to ripple across the faces in the crowd. The question that seems to buzz like wildfire across the streets is why would a small fragile girl as herself willingly volunteer. I know the answer is simple, but it is one that those on the outside would have to search for; something that would not be easily discovered. The answer in my eyes is simple; I want to watch everyone who stands in my way burn to the ground.

**Alexander Devin Blake's POV**

Every single movement and action has an effect on the world around us; that is what my father always told me. I focus on those words that seem to echo across my mind the moment the smooth surface of the rock that was once held tightly between my clutches slides from my flesh. I watch transfixed on the small ripples it causes as it skips across the smooth surface of the pond set out before me. Each ripple has an effect this I know, but it is to what extent the effect is that draws me in.

Even at a young age I would ponder ideas such as this that were way beyond my years. I'm not sure what it is about the unknown that seems to wrap its way around my mind like a poison; holding me its prisoner. I long to know what it is I most likely have no business knowing. I want to know the effect that each small action and decision that we make has on the greater world around us.

Lost deep in thoughts, as I mull about these concepts I barely hear my name being called in the distance.

"Alexander mom said its time you started getting ready for the reapings!" The soft voice of my fourteen year old sister Taylor flits about the air around me, as if it was dancing across the gentle breeze. I wish I could stand in this moment forever, with the breeze snaking its way through my hair and the serenity of the landscape around me swarming my very being. With this feeling if only for a minute I can forget about the events that are to be taking place within the hour.

A feeling of anticipation slowly eats away at my insides by an uncontrollable force. Today are the final reapings that I will have to be a part of, but I cannot shake this feeling of uneasiness that tugs relentlessly at my very being. I shake out my hands in an attempt to be rid of this feeling that claws at my emotions.

Emotions are another thing that I find myself easily loosing myself in thought to. Being a silent person I find myself being dragged under by concepts that I will never in my entire life time be able to understand. Perhaps not being able to understand is for the best, as knowing what is meant to be kept shrouded in the shadows can be held as a serious burden; a burden not many are able to carry.

I breathe out slowly, as I realize I am losing myself to my thoughts one again. I can see my sister waiting impatiently in the distance, but this feeling of serenity is something that is difficult to let go of. It is one of those emotions that one would want to desperately cling onto, especially in this world that we have been forced to live in.

I begin to make my way back towards my small home that looms in the distance. It may be small, but it is still a place I can willingly label with the title of home. Home has never been the same since my father lost his life to a mining accident, but we still somehow manage. My mother and sister mean the world to me and they are the two people in the world I would be willing to lay my life down for.

I snap my eyes open and here now I stand in what has become my reality. Surrounded by the other eighteen year old males we have been herded like cattle into this small like space; forced to wait and see whose names shall be called out.

I nervously tug on my simple blue shirt as I wait for the reapings to begin. How long must they make us wait like this; forcing us to stand beneath the beating warmth of the sun. I narrow my eyes trying to get a better glimpse of the stage, as the sight of my grey eyes has already begun to fade at my young age. How is it that one as young at myself is already becoming slowly blinded to the world surrounding me?

"Welcome District 12 to this year's Annual Hunger Games!" The static of his voice stretches across the crowd, enveloping each and every one of us. The moment the speech of our history begins I snap my eyes close, burying myself deep in thought. Here trapped in the depths of my mind is the only place I am safe from the harsh world I am forced to live in. The Capitol is something no one was every meant to comprehend. How they can sit around on their butts with their stomachs full, as the rest of us starve is something that even they must know is not right. However I know they lack the capacity to care.

The sound of a sweet innocent voice is the only thing that draws me back to my reality, "I volunteer!" Her voice is velvety smooth like the finest of chocolates, but it hides an almost dangerous edge to it. I run my hand through my short black hair, as my eyes fall upon the girl who skips gracefully towards the stage. I recognize her as the girl that has whispers following each step she takes. The girl who burnt down the community home is how she is known here in District 12; the innocent one who got away with murder. The way she twirls towards the stage screams innocence, but I know not to judge a book by its cover. Just because she bats her eyelashes and holds that rabbit tightly in her clutches does not mean she is one who enjoys playing nicely.

I barely register the next few seconds that slip from my grasps until I hear something that steals my attention without my permission. "The male tribute from District 12 for this year's Annual Hunger Games is Alexander Devin Blake!" The sound of my name slices through the air, as if it was the sharp edge of a blade. My thoughts instantly go towards my family, as an emotionless mask is worn clearly on my face for the world to see. I should be concerned for myself and perhaps I am, but with the way my mind works my thoughts cloud my judgment, only allowing me to think and see what they want me to see.

**And there you have it the reapings are officially over!**

**And now the real fun can begin ;D**

**So leave a review as usual for these tributes and I'm also curious to see who the favorites are so far so let me know who you are rooting for in your reviews as well! :D**

**And here is your sponsor question for this chapter!**

**What did the melon look like that Katniss ate in the capitol?**

**The first to answer correctly will receive six sponsor points and the next three to answer correctly will receive four sponsor points!**


	14. The Only Choice Is To Survive

**The answer to my last trivia question was: Pale purple.**

**The receivers of those points were****Sweet 'lil Mockingjay** **who answered first and got six sponsor points. The following three each received four sponsor points:QueenOfSwordsAndFire, and****KitKat2014.**

**With the reapings finally coming to a close this is where things are going to start getting interesting. Now about alliances I will be creating them myself, but if there is a specific tribute you want your character to ally with PM me and I will take that into consideration. Also from now on reviews will only gain you three sponsor points so try to answer those questions ;D This chapter will be frequently updated so check back here to keep an eye on your sponsor points!**

All of Panem was abuzz with an eerie excitement, as the replays of the reapings were doled out for the world to pay witness to. Tribute after tribute was shown, their image flashing across the screen. Some chose by choice to be here while others were forced into playing these wicked games that would soon be brought to light. The people of the Capitol chattered excitedly about the ones who would bring them entertainment this year. Some tributes stood out against the crowd while others would soon be lost amongst the howls of the wind.

"Did you see the looks of the careers this year?" A Capitol woman with striking turquoise hair chirped in a voice, as sweet as honey.

"Yes, an interesting group we will have to watch this year," A man with skin as pale as snow spoke in a voice that was colder than ice.

"I couldn't agree more! Did you see the looks of the District 4 boy? He is rather vicious looking," Her mind fell to the image of the boy standing tall over the crowd with a dangerous look rippling across the surface of his eyes. A small shudder ran through her body at the thought of what that boy may be capable of.

"I did, but he is not the one who grabbed the majority of my attention. There is something about that petite girl from District 12 that draws your attention to her," He thought about how he first reacted when he saw the girl of District 12 twirl onto the stage, clutching that rabbit between her fingers. How odd he had thought it was to watch a girl of seventeen cling onto a stuffed animal like that. There was something about the girl with the velvety smooth voice that was inviting, but at the same time seemed almost deadly.

"Oh, that sweet little innocent girl? I think I recall her," She tapped her fingers against her chin mulling over the images of tributes that seemed to blend in a swirl of colors within the depths of her mind. Some stood out brighter than others and she knew those would be the ones who would progress further into the Games.

With the deafening drone of talk about who may emerge Victor the tributes were being whisked away from their homes, becoming nothing more than faded blurs looming in the distance. To try and decipher the thoughts that may run rampant like wild fire across their minds is something almost none could comprehend.

Many of them wanted nothing more to be returned safely to that place they could call home; while others wouldn't give up their place for the world. These are the ones that were looked upon with disdain by the other tributes. The ones who volunteered; the ones who had a choice. But now thrown into these Games the only choice any of them had was to survive.

**Now here are the Sponsor Points and I will be sure to keep this updated regularly!**

Sweet 'lil Mockingjay – 177 points

DonPianta – 144 points

KitKat2014 –37 points

AndItsGonnaBeTotallyAwesome – 18 points

i-am-foxface – 144 points

The-Teeny-And-Amazing-Abby – 19 points

ChibiPanda315 – 131 points

KingWolf111 – 111 points

Munamana – 140 points

MadolynMcGinty – 104 points

TheKatieKat – 62 points

QueenOfSwordsAndFire – 129 points

The epic bookworm - 132 points

Fleur-WickedWitchOfBeauxbatons – 7 points

Young-lovers-eyes – 35 points

Dream-The-Dream – 35 points

Cato Mellark – 22 points


	15. The Start of The Beginning: Train Rides

**And here we have it the first chapter that isn't reaping related! This chapter takes place while the tributes are on the train, as here is where some plot lines will begin to develop ;D**

**District 1 female tribute – Age seventeen - Phoenix 'Foe' Sterling's point of view**

I sit with my arms crossed lightly over my chest, my gaze transfixed on the ever changing scenery that blurs by in swirls of colors beyond the crystal clear window set out before me. I glance down the hall where the drone of the reapings that took place all over Panem today can be heard. My mentor instructed me the moment I stepped onto the plush carpeted floors of the train that I was to watch the reapings, but naturally here I sit disobeying her orders.

My dangerously appealing features are drawn out in a line of concentration, as I mull over exactly what it is I have done. I did the one thing my seemingly perfect sister never did; I volunteered. I breathe out slowly almost not believing that I allowed those two simple words to slip from my lips for all to hear. My parents always wished to have a child in the Games.

"Stereotypical career District fools," I mutter bitterly at the very thought of my parents. They should feel proud to have a child in the Games, but did they come to the Justice Building to say their goodbyes? Not to my surprise they didn't of course. I shrug this off not bothered by their lack of capacity to care for their child who is not perfect in their eyes.

Perfection is something that belongs in those damned fairytales that are meant for children and I am not a bloody blonde stuck up princess. I snort in what could be seen as an unattractive manner at the thought of myself waiting in a tower for some prince that will never come. I don't need to be saved when I can take care of myself.

I tap my fingers restlessly against the wood of the dining table set out in front of me, almost eager to finally arrive in the Capitol. As foolish as many will see volunteering as being this gives me the opportunity to show up all those who laughed in my face saying I would surely die in the bloodbath. I ball my hands into fists at the very thought. I am no bloodbath; I am a victor.

I only glance up when I hear the faint sound of footsteps against the fine wooded floors. There I see my District partner casually strolling into the room with that lopsided grin of his, which has not vanished from his features since we left District 1 far away in the distance. I watch him closely, as he slides into the seat across from me. I almost long to smack that grin clean off of his face, but then I begin to ponder my options.

This boy sitting in front of me is a career and could be proven useful. A tool to be used at my whim is what he could possibly be to me, but this is something he will remain clueless to. I sit up a little straighter and thrown my dark layered hair over my shoulder. My hair is just one aspect that sets me apart from the crowd that is the females of District 1. I am no blonde perfect princess, but I am a dark and dangerous beauty; one that is not to be overlooked.

"So District partner I take it were in an alliance together correct?" Dapar flashes what he must think is a charming smile and it takes all my will power not to roll my eyes.

"That depends if it is in my best interest to ally with you or not," I know these few first moments are vital to the beginning of my web that I will be starting to spin. To draw your prey in leaving them captivated is the most difficult of tasks, but once this is completed there will be no turning back.

"Well I'm a career so that generally leads one to believe that I am trained and that I know what I'm doing," As he speaks I pick up on the aura that surrounds him that seems to ooze confidence. This form of aura I know is something that could possibly be taken for arrogance, but then again arrogance is something that goes hand in hand with us careers.

"Well one would think you don't know what you're doing, I mean you didn't volunteer," I say with a slight shrug of my shoulders.

Dapar returns my shrug with one of his own, "I had plans to volunteer when I turned eighteen, but the sooner I am crowned victor the better."

At his words my features contort into a scowl, but I quickly pinch myself forcing this look to fade away back into my features. Perhaps this plan that is formulating through my mind will be more difficult to pull off than I once thought. "Don't get too cocky there you're looking at the girl who will give you a run for your money right now."

"I like this confidence of yours which is why I propose we work together."

"Alongside the other careers?" I ask, as I brush a loose strand of hair away from my eyes.

At these words one could easily tell that both of our minds are working in overdrive; devising schemes and plans that will put us on top. By the look in his eyes I can easily decipher that he holds the quality to back stab those that he needs to. This is a trait I can easily use to my advantage. Some may find one that can easily see how to manipulate their fellow race as startling, but I find it almost intriguing. It portrays how vulnerable some may be and how powerful others can be to strike when the walls are torn down.

My features do not give away a hint of a threat, as Dapar and myself discuss possible plans that we could carry out. How easily it seems for me to gain some of his trust, but then again for all I know he could be playing me as well or at least attempting to.

"So the final two then?" Dapar asks me that optimistic grin of his still dancing across his features.

I reach over the table and shake his hand, "And then we fight out."

"May the best tribute win," Dapar releases my hand and leans back in his chair.

"Don't worry I will," I say this, as a small smirk tugs at my lips. Dapar laughs at my comment, but I wonder if he realizes I am not joking around with him. I have the full intentions to be crowned as this year's Victor. To rise from the blood that will surely fall is what I am going to have to do. And no one is going to stand in my way in my quest for victory.

"I watched the reapings and the other tributes," Dapar makes a thumbs down motion and makes a spitting noise. I wipe at my face, as some of his spit from his gesture that was meant to be comical lands on me.

"Oh sorry about that," He grins sheepishly slightly embarrassed. I have to contain my temper and resist the urge to knock over the glass that rests in front of him, which could cause some unnaturally, colored drink to soak into his clothing.

"Don't let it happen again," I say with a slight edge to my voice. The words that spilt from his lips earlier are ones that I will disregard for the moment. I will leave the judging of the other tributes that I will be pitted against up to myself.

I glance out the window behind Dapar and pay witness to the towering buildings of the Capitol coming into view. It is at this moment that everything begins to really sink in. I will have to fight for my life, this is my reality now.

**District 4 male tribute - Age eighteen - Theo Macdonald's point of view**

I sit on the edge of the elaborate couch my eyes trained on the television that is perched on the wall before me. I am fully aware of my new surroundings, but I only concentrate on the pathetic tribute's images that flash across the screen. I can hear the even breathing of my District partner next to me, as her gaze watches each tribute that takes the stage as well.

This period of time that spans out in front of me is one that will drag by at the most slowest of paces in my eyes. My hands twitch in anticipation to fast forward pass the stages that are nothing more than being dressed up and showed off for the world to see. I cannot lie to myself saying I won't relish in the attention of so many eyes trained on me, but I know what part of this process I long for. I ball my hand into a fist longing to feel the familiarity of my axe held tightly between my clutches.

I breathe out slowly needing to stay in control of myself. I cannot already so early in these Games show what it is I am capable of becoming. I close my eyes and I can see my features being reflected back at me off the flawless silver blade of an axe. The wicked smile that dances across my lips plays along in a beautiful melody with the dangerous bloodlust reflected in the surface of my bright green eyes. The moment I pay witness to soft droplets of scarlet rolling down my cheeks is when I snap my eyes back open.

The delicate sound of Vencitiy laughing next to me is what draws me back out of my blood stained haven. In a heartbeat my eyes are trained back on the television screen where I see what it is she is laughing at.

"Pathetic to think we will have to ally with them since they are from District 1," She runs her hand through her dark chocolate hair, causing it to spiral in soft waves down her back. The girl is attractive and perhaps I can have some fun with her before I will have to dispose of her, but until then let the games begin.

"Pathetic is that I have to ally with any of you," I say coolly the arrogance in my voice undeniable. Vencitiy just rolls her eyes in response, but the words I speak are true. I would much rather do this on my own, but perhaps an alliance will work in my favor, but I refuse to be a follower.

The hostility ringing like electricity through the air is cut short when we both burst into cold laughter the moment the District 3 tributes take the stage.

"That boy looks like he was about to have a heart attack," I say between laughter that bounces off the walls in cold waves.

"I can't believe that girl volunteered, I mean does she really think she even stands a chance?" I shake my head at this comment knowing that with myself running wild through the arena this girl won't stand the slightest of chances.

I can't stop the satisfied grin that forces its way onto my features the moment my eyes pay witness to my own reaping. I stand tall and proud and I am sure to gain plenty of attention from the people of the Capitol with the terrifying edge that outlines the depths of my eyes.

I glance at Vencitiy who has a frown etched across her lips, as we watch ourselves shaking hands at our reaping. "I am still not impressed by your words back in District 4," She says after awhile shattering the silence around us.

"You don't have to be impressed by them. You may think you have what it takes to be the leader, but it is obvious that you don't" I say simply with a slight shrug of my shoulders. The moment she goes to open her mouth once more I put up my hand sending her back into silence. However this gesture that I directed at her does not sit well with Vencitiy.

"You think you have what it takes to lead us? The only thing you have is the means to do is run us into the ground," Her gaze is now fixed on me with an icy glare, but her hostility does not faze me.

At this moment in time I know this is where I need to prove my dominance. I stand up and Vencitiy does the same refusing to allow me to tower over her. I glare down at her and if only looks could kill both of us would be sprawled out across the floor; our final breathes being swept away from us. None would be surprised to hear that the careers are already at each other's throats, as we fight over who will claim the power of leadership.

"You're the kind of career that will be the first to fall. The ones who think they can get by based on looks alone. I figured this out the moment your name was called out. That squeal of yours that ripped through the town square was enough to make me cringe," My words are straight to the point and hold an undeniable edge that would appear frightening to most.

"You think I am going to try and win this on looks alone? You would be foolish to think that Theo. You're not the only one who has been training for this moment."

"I don't care if you have been training before you here even born, I could still destroy you while blindfolded," I say harshly, the hostility in the room only continuing to rise in violent waves.

"I would like to see you try," Vencitiy says through clenched teeth, as she takes a challenging step closer to me. I have to fight the temptation to laugh coldly at her pathetic attempt to intimidate me. I lift my fist, as if to hit her, but my intentions are only to scare her and to prove I am the wisest choice to be the leader of the career pact.

Before I can even move my arm an inch I feel my arm being bent back behind me in an unnatural angle. An almost inaudible gasp escapes my lips as the voice of mentor slices through the room, his voice sharper than the steely edge of a blade, "Theo want to explain to me why you are trying to cause harm to your District partner before the Games have even started?" Butch's voice is cool and calm, but I know just how deadly he can be if he chooses.

"I wasn't actually going to hit her," I mumble, as I shoot an icy look at Vencitiy who has a smug look written all over her features.

"Out in the hall now," Butch booms, as he shoves me forwards towards the door. I stumble slightly, as I rub my arm which is slightly sore from the angle he held it in. I lean back against the wall with my arms crossed, a look of disdain showing clear as day through my features.

"You really think making enemies already is the wisest of choices?" Butch inquires.

"I wasn't trying to make enemies, I was simply proving my dominance."

Butch just rolls his eyes in response, "Kid making enemies like this is what is going to get you killed. You need an alliance and acting the way I just saw you behaving is not going to earn you any."

I purse my lips into a fine line at his words, "I don't need an alliance, and I could win this on my own if I wanted to."

"Don't kid yourself by saying that. You would be foolish to think you could go through these entire Games without having to use someone. Now get your ass back in that room and make amends. You want to be the leader of the career pact then fine, but don't push away the people you will have the chance to destroy later," He pushes me back in the direction of the door, but I find myself standing there if only for the briefest of moments.

I know I could win on my own, but perhaps Butch is right. There is also that alluring thought of being able to destroy my alliance during my fight towards the top. A cruel smile plays its way across my lips at the twisted idea that slowly begins to work its way into my mind. I know the perfect way to destroy each and every one of the careers that will stand at my side.

**District 8 male tribute – Age fourteen- Shohn Vekriss point of view**

I sit here alone huddled in a corner, clutching my knees close to my chest. Soft trembles rivet out of control through my entire being, as I keep my eyes firmly shut. I did not choose to be here, but now I will soon be just another face in the sky. I have little faith in my ability to get myself home and I know if I was to be crowed victor it would be by some brilliant stroke of luck. Many may believe that it shows weakness to allow tears to flow readily down ones cheeks, but I cannot stop the slick liquid from dampening my flesh.

I am only fourteen, but my life will soon be cut short. Perhaps this is punishment for pondering the thought of taking my own life on more than one occasion. However now when I think about what difference would it have made? I know is reality it would have had very little difference. The only thing that would change is that my death will be public for every pair of prying eyes to pay witness to, instead of in the privacy of the four bleak walls of my bedroom.

I take a single deep breath willing myself to regain control over my emotions that seem to be fighting each other to rein control over me. This never ending war of emotions that rage on within my hidden depths have threatened me time and time again to push me off that edge into a blissful oblivion. I let my mind fall to the only memory I want to cling onto in this very moment; the moment of my final goodbyes.

They were the most gut wrenching painful experience one must suffer through, but it is the freshest memory of my family that has branded itself into the depths of my mind.

My entire body shook violently, as I sat on the plush couches stored away in the Justice Building. My mind could only draw blanks, as my vision was still clouded over by a dusting of darkness. The moment the door burst open I barely registered anything that was happening in the world around me. In my head everything was at a standstill, as if the entire world of Panem had been frozen in place. The vibrant leaves hanging off the trees did not move an inch in the gentle breeze I knew that was there. The wisps of clouds that hung high in the sky remained still, as if someone had painted them across the great blue canvas that is the sky.

I couldn't even hear the sound of my own ragged breathing, as the world seemed to be crushing in around me. The only thing that drew me out of this closed in shell was the feel of my sisters arms wrapped around me.

"Shohn you have to snap out of it!" Her voice was desperate, as she pleaded with me to return to the surface world, but I was buried so deep beneath my very presence that I could barely speak a single word. I blinked a few times and it was as if I was being brought to life for the first time. Everything felt new to me, like I had yet to experience an ounce of what the earth has to offer us. The air felt cool and soothing, as it snaked its way down my lungs.

"Nattie," Her name was the only word that was able to spill from my lips, but it was enough for her to hear.

"Shohn you are going to listen to me right now. I know you have been struggling with depression for the last couple of years, but you can't go and throw your life away now. You are going to win and start your life over. Fresh beginnings are something that we can all use. They can bring you back from the land of the dead and breathe a new purpose into your very being." Those final words that she spoke to me were filled with an immense power I had never heard in her tone once before. I did not feed her any false promises to win, but I told her I would try to conquer these challenges set out before me, but even I am skeptical about being able to even try.

My gaze falls upon the sharp blade of a dining knife that rests peacefully on the dining room table across the room from where I sit. Here trapped in the silence I find myself almost willing to give up now. What could the Capitol do if I took my life only a few days before my inevitable demise? I can almost hear my sister yelling at me for even considering these ideas, but as much as I try these images that plague my mind won't fade back into the darkness.

I can clearly see myself with the point of the knife directed at the soft flesh of my neck, but these images quickly fall away, as if they are nothing more than broken shards of glass the moment I hear the sound of a high pitch scream. The door furthest from me bursts open and my District partner comes flying out of the shadows her jet black hair splaying behind her like a pair of raven wings. She sits down in a chair not far from me acting, as if she has been there the whole time. I cough quietly which causes her to jump up in surprise.

"Bloody hell! How long have you been there?" She turns around to face me with her hands placed lightly on her hips.

"The whole time," I whisper quietly, as I sink back against the wall.

She just rolls her eyes at the sight of my form that seems to be trying to retreat backwards into the solid wall. "Well if anyone asks I've been here the entire time and I had nothing to do with those Avoxes tripping over their laces."

"You hurt the Avoxes, but they did nothing wrong," My voice begins to regain its strength and is no longer as soft spoken.

"Like I said I've been here the entire time alright?" Her tone holds an edge that I am not used to. I recognize her as the girl the Peacekeepers speak about on a daily basis. The girl with the cat like eyes that runs rampant through the District, chaos and trouble following her with each step she takes.

"So you want me to lie for you then?" I ask her, as I tilt my head to the side to look at her.

All Rylinn does is shrug lightly, "Is there a reason your sitting over there on the floor anyways?" As she asks me this question she flops back down on her chair and props her feet up on the table, a gesture I'm sure our escort would take disdain in.

"No, I guess not," My voice once again grows quiet and Rylinn soon looses interest in me and goes about cleaning out her nails with one of the knives set out on the dining table.

I bite my lip softly and let my gaze fall back down to the floor, as I count down the moments till the wolves will devour me whole; tearing away at my flesh until I am nothing, but a whisper amongst the wind.

**District 9 female tribute – Age fifteen - Astoria Delacorte's point of view**

I lay on the soft silk sheets staring up at the ceiling, counting the smooth cream tiles that span the width of the ceiling above me. My entire body continues to recoil in shock after hearing my name being called out as clear, as a raindrop sliding off a rose petal. I close my eyes, as I breathe out slowly; trying to wrap my mind around this situation I have been thrown into. I have been sheltered my entire life being the daughter of the mayor of District 9 and never once have my fingers graced the cold steel of a blade.

I wrap my arms protectively around myself, as I feel my mind slipping farther away from me, as if it nothing more than a waterfall falling over the edge in crashing waves. The sounds of rolling waves seem to surround me, as my mind tip toes closer and closer to the edge. I long to peer over the edge before I step over falling into nothing, but before I can stop myself I slip away into nothingness.

Here in my dreams where I sleep peacefully is where Nika runs rampant, leaving prints of chaos with each step she takes in this dream land with an endless list of possibilities. If one was able to see what I see in my sleep, nightmares would plague the insides of their eyelids for forever more, but these horrid dreams are always lost to me the moment I reopen my eyes greeting the paling light of the morning sun.

The image of my form stands above a vibrant green hill, but my eyes are wrong. My dark brown eyes that always would shimmer with life have been replaced by a pair of piercing silver eyes that scream insanity. These eyes dance along the surrounding terrain seeking out something that cannot be easily seen. What is it that Nika's captivatingly dangerous eyes search for?

A quiet growl escapes her lips, as she knows what it is she yearns for. In the blink of an eye she is running and I watch, as if from a third person point of view. I feel like a spirit hovering above these fields of green watching my body that no longer belongs to myself run wild towards a target unknown to me.

Slowly the terrain begins to melt away giving way to the true horrors that Nika embraces with open arms. This is where she feels at home; in this blood riddled home of hell. This is where she is in her element; where she can run free from the restraint that is my conscious. She longs to break free from the prisons of my mind so she can wreck havoc upon all of Panem as she pleases.

While my body trembled in shock at the sound of my name Nika rejoiced in a bloodthirsty fit of cruel joy. While I have never weld a weapon between my delicate fingers, Nika has no problem wielding a sharp curved blade between her nimble fingers.

She looks frantically around the surrounding terrain still searching for something that is unseen to me. All she knows is that she is close to what it is she seeks. Her features appear wild, as she takes off running once more the flames that burst out of the earth licking at her boots playfully. The smile that graces her lips at the sensation of the warm flames is one that is cruel and twisted; seemingly inhuman.

Blood begins to rain from the sky and Nika spins in circles with her arms spread wide. She opens her mouth, as one would to catch snowflakes on their tongue, but instead she drinks heavily from the crimson liquid that coats her skin. With her body slick in the metallic coating I begin to feel ill, but I can't tear my eyes away from her.

Nika licks her lips hungrily, wanting more than she has already had. However she knows this does not compare to the real flavors of blood that could dance across her tongue. She yearns for me to lose control so she can slip out into my reality and rein supreme.

She begins walking once more her feet sinking into the blood soak blades of grass. She almost appears as if she will fall into the earth to be lost beneath the blood matted grass, but her body remains atop the horrifying mess.

Nika's features perk up when her eyes fall upon what it was she has been seeking this entire time. A small girl looms in the distance, but she is startlingly familiar in my eyes. As Nika takes several swift, but silent steps towards her do her features finally become clear to me.

"Wren!" I scream out to my twin sister, but my desperate calls are lost amongst the gentle breeze. A bubble of panic begins to work its way through my chest, as Nika closes in on the distance between herself and my sister.

Nika holds an almost animal like look gleaming in the surface of her eyes, as she pounces sending her and my sister spiraling to the ground. They roll across the grass sending splatters of blood flying out in every direction imaginable. My desperate pleas blend in harmony with sounds of my sisters screams of terror. My spirit like body hovers helplessly above the surface, as Nika reins in control of my form.

Nika bares her teeth like a wild animal before she sinks them in the neck of my sister. She tears away at her flesh until Wren's eyes go blank and cold as ice. Nika stands up with a piece of lost flesh hanging from her mouth and I force myself to close my eyes.

"One of these days I will break free from the cell that is this body. One of these days I will spill sweet crimson blood as I please. I will wreck havoc upon the world that is Panem and I will destroy any that stand in my path. These Hunger Games are just a stepping stone for us Astoria. Soon all of Panem will know the secret insanity that we harbour," Her cold laughter surrounds me causing my eyes to snap opening hurling me back into my reality.

I stare up at the ceiling, but my mind is a complete blank. I cannot remember a single moment of the nightmare that just plagued my sleep. My hands tremble slightly, but I cannot figure out the cause. My gaze falls to the window where the Capitol stands tall in the distance. There is something off about me this I know, but if only I could figure out what it is.

**And there we have the train rides so now you can get a better idea for who some of your tributes are ;D**

**The next chapter will be the chariots and hopefully I will have that up in a week or so ^^**

**Now onto your sponsor question!**

**What wound did the female tribute from District 1 receive in the second Quarter Quell that was caused by Haymitch?**

**The first to answer correctly will receive six sponsor points and the next three to answer correctly will receive four sponsor points!**


	16. We All Play A Part: Chariot Rides

**The answer to my previous trivia question was: She lost an eye.**

**The receivers of those points were ****TheKatieKat ****who answered first and got six sponsor points. The following three e****ach received four sponsor points: KingWolf111, QueenOfSwordsAndFire, and Fleur-WickedWitchOfBeauxbatons.**

**And now onto the chariots ;D**

**District 3 female tribute – Age sixteen - Kallina 'Kalli' Censura's point of view**

A string of sharp tongued curses escape my lips, as if acting on their own will, as my stylists rakes her hands through my hair with more force than would ever be needed. I can feel several single strands being uprooted from my skull and I can see the fine strands of red hair falling free towards the floor.

"Do you have to be so rough?" I ask my stylist whose name has to do with an apricot or some other exotic fruit that has never graced my taste buds through clenched teeth.

"Sorry dear, but your hair is rather," She trails off for a moment, as if she is trying to carefully choose the right words of description.

"Don't bother finishing that sentence," I grumble beneath my breath, as I know the next words to spill from her bright purple lips would be some form of an insult directed towards my outwardly appearance. My appearance has never been a priority of my life, but instead I focus on keeping a terrifying demeanor in place, as I need to show the careers I am not here to play games. With my eyes closed shut I can see the rivers of crimson flowing readily through some unknown arena, the heads of the careers perched high on separate stakes for all of Panem to see.

I can feel a wicked grin splitting across my lips at the thought of the careers blood stained on my hands. I watched the reapings and I was not impressed by what I saw. The boy from District 1 with the lopsided grin looks like he could easily fall during the bloodbath. The girl from District 2 was not much to look at either. With the fear that was shown in her eyes it is easy to see the Games could possibly break her if she is pushed towards her breaking point. The boys from both District 2 and District 4 would both tower over me, but their size is something that I will use against them.

I open my eyes to see my stylist looking at me with questioningly frightful eyes. This is when I realize I still have a cruel smile tugging at my fine lips. "What are you looking at?" I snap, as I bite down on my lip causing this hostile look to fade away in ripples back into my features.

"Nothing, just close your eyes so I can finish your makeup," She instructs me with a voice that sounds almost lyrical. I clench my jaw at these instructions, but I allow my eyes to fall shut. I can feel the smooth cream liquid of the makeup she is using slide its way across my features, creating intricate designs to highlight my cheekbones. I know once they are completed with dressing me up like some play doll I will no longer be able to recognize myself.

For the next few hours everything about my appearance is altered and changed into a way that I would never imagine. The material that caresses my body feels cool against my flesh and the moment I open my eyes to pay witness to the mirror in front of me I cannot stop myself from breathing in sharply.

The image of the girl that stands before me is one I have never seen before. My only feature that is recognizable is the pair of emerald eyes that stare back at me. I run my fingertips along one of the delicate curls that falls free from the rest of my hair that has been pulled back into a messy bun that frames my face perfectly. I can feel the buzz of electricity that bubbles from the pair of silver rods strung through my hair. The silver lines that run down the side of my face resemble those of a train work of wires and shimmer in the paling light that streams through the wide set windows.

I tug relentlessly at the white body suit that I have been forced to wear, as it shows off more than I would desire. Every time I move my body the suit shimmers in different colors showing off the beauty of technology. I walk closer to the mirror my knee length jet black boots echoing against the marbled floors. I narrow my eyes at the image not liking what it is they have done to me. I am hauntingly beautiful to the eyes, but I want nothing more than to look fierce and threatening.

"What do you think?" My stylist chirps obviously happy with her work. In response I bring my fist down smashing it against the smooth surface of the glass. I bite my lip at the stinging sensation that snakes its way through my flesh, but my eyes remain transfixed on the glinting shards that give way and crumble down to the floor. The sound of them hitting the floor echoes across the room and is caught up in the sound of my stylist's gasp, as she is greatly taken aback by my outburst.

Without another word I briskly walk out of the room ignoring the calls of my stylist behind me. My breathing becomes shallow, as I pick a piece of glass out of my skin, only wincing slightly at the sharp stab of pain riveting through my hand.

"The pain I will have to endure in the arena will be even greater than this," I mumble softly to myself, as I wipe the blood from my hand clean off on my boot. I close my eyes and slowly count backwards from ten; a technique my sister taught me to help control my anger.

Ten.

They have changed me on the outside.

Nine.

But I am still me on the inside.

Eight.

The Capitol will not be able to steal away every aspect that has created the girl I am today.

Seven.

I will not allow them to ever do such a thing.

Six.

They have already stolen my sister's life from me.

Five.

Using those beasts they call careers.

Four.

Those careers that will now fall by my hands.

Three.

Slick metallic blood will coat my skin.

Two.

I will rise.

One.

As they will fall.

I snap my eyes back open to find myself face to face with my District partner. I stumble backwards in surprise and fall back against the wall.

"Sorry, did my immense attractiveness startle you?" Benji looks at me with what he thinks is a charming smile, but this look forces a cold icy glare to be aimed in his direction.

"You attractive? Keep dreaming," My tone is colder than my glare, but still he does not back off.

"Oh so your an ice queen then? I always liked my girls a little frigid," A small smirk tugs at his lips as he walks closer to me placing a hand on my cheek. At this contact is when I lash out, as nobody touches me. I bring my hand back and my fist connects with his jaw, sending him crashing to the floor.

"What the hell was that for?" He demands an answer from me, as he clutches his jaw that now looks slightly bruised.

"I have two things to say to you right now. One do not ever touch me again and second do not tell anyone that your bruise was caused by me," As soon as these harsh words sting through the air I turn on my heels and walk down the hall, my boots clicking loudly against the floor. My actions were rash and I know they could lead me down a path no one wants to enter. It is against the rules to fight before the Games, but my actions were ones I could not bring to a halt. I just want more than anything to get these chariot rides over with.

**District 6 male tribute – Age seventeen - Collin Matthew Wrather's point of view**

I walk down the elaborately decorated hallways after already being prepped by my stylists. With my mentor at my side leading me towards where the carriages await us do I decide to have some fun. I glance at my mentor Elodea who has her gaze transfixed on the space ahead of her, her features contorted into a mask with seemingly no emotions being able to shine through. I take a step forward and begin walking down the hall ahead of her; as if I was one of those escorts who wear those shoes that make them tower over everyone.

With my head held high and my shoulders drawn back, I walk down the hall in the most ridiculous of manners. I glance behind me towards Elodea who has her gaze watching me with a questioning manner, "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"Walking what else would I be doing?" I say simply, as I tug on my suit that seems to have been molded by several spare tires. The rubber is hot and rubs against my skin in the most uncomfortable of manners.

"If any other tributes were to see you right now you would be labelled as a laughing stock," Her words come off as harsh, but I know she does have a point, but I lack the capacity to care about how the other tributes see me. No matter what they want me dead so why not try to enjoy what time I have left.

"Well I do like making people laugh so what would be the harm of some of the other tributes seeing me walk this way?" I ask her still not seeing the harm I could be doing to my image.

Elodea just shakes her head, as if she is already close to signing me off as a lost cause. I open my mouth to say something to her, as I turn around on my heels, but this sudden movement causes me to trip over my feet sending me spiraling towards the floor. I land hard on the ground, but then I feel something moving beneath me.

"Collin get the f*ck off of me!" Nel's muffled voice reaches my ears, as I roll off of her laughing while I do so.

"Stop laughing before I smack that look of yours off your face," Nel says this with a tone of annoyance outlying her voice, as she stands up trying to straighten out her outfit.

"Go ahead and hit me, you know I'll like it," I say back to her in a teasing tone.

Nel's scowl softens slightly, but she still looks unimpressed. I know by now after growing up together she would be used to me falling over in every which direction, but then again Nel was never the one who liked being touched. When I think about it though who would like a boy who is over six feet tall crashing down on them. It would be like a giant stepping on a chicken or a duck or maybe just something small.

"Collin what is with the weird look on your face?" Nel asks me with a raised eyebrow.

"I'm just thinking about giants and ducks," I mumble still mulling over this seemingly useless thoughts.

"Alright, enough of this chit chat both of you need to get down to the chariots before you are late," Elodea takes us both by the elbows and leads us down several hallways until we stand outside a large intricately designed door.

"Just walk through there and get in line; the chariots will be beginning shortly," With those words sliding free from her lips, Elodea walks back in the direction we came from her shoes clacking against the floor.

"Just try not to act like a complete idiot in front of everyone else," Nel breathes out, as she pushes open the doors. The room surrounding us smells strongly of horses and I can't stop myself from scrunching up my nose.

"It smells like horse in here," I state, as I step down the stone steps.

"And I wonder why," Nel says in the most sarcastic voice she can muster, as she points in the direction of a carriage which is being drawn by two jet black horses.

I roll my eyes in response, as we make our way towards our carriage.

"There's our biggest threat," Nel murmurs quietly, as her gaze remains on the small group of careers that has formed.

"There's our what?" I ask, as I turn around sharply which causes me to run into a brick wall, when that's if people were made out of bricks. I find myself looking straight into the eyes of the monstrous boy from District 2, as even he is a few inches taller than I am.

"Want to pay attention to where you are going 6," He says in a voice that appears to be void of all emotion.

"You talk like a robot," I blurt out before I can stop myself.

"And you talk like your five years old," The boy of District 2 says, as he crosses his arms.

"Really that is the best insult you can come up with?" Nel interjects, as she grabs my arms and practically drags me towards our carriage.

"I don't need you to fight my battles for me," I say, as I glance over my shoulder to pay witness to the large boy from District 2 watching our retreat with a cold glare fixed into his features.

"That has to be the biggest lie I have ever heard," Nel says with a slight shrug of her shoulders.

Without another word we walk onto our carriage and fall into a silence, which is abuzz with anticipation. How is it that I'm supposed to act in front of all of Panem? Most like the boy from District 2 see me as nothing more than an idiot, but if being me is what makes me an idiot then so be it. I glance over at Nel who tugs on her outfit, looking like she is about to tear it clean off her skin.

"Nel stop playing with your dress."

"Don't tell me what the hell to do Collin," I sigh quietly at her response, not at all taken aback by her tone. Without saying another word I go about tracing patterns on the cool metal of our carriage. I know I should be focused on the ceremonies that are about to take place, but instead I find myself wondering how I am going to get Nel home. She volunteered because of me so it is only right if I make it my goal to get her home; if only I knew how.

**District 5 male tribute – Age eighteen – Pike River's point of view**

I stand with my arms crossed across my chest next to my carriage, as my eyes dance around my surroundings, taking in ever little detail. I size up each and every tribute that is within my line of vision, as I weigh out who may possibly be a threat to myself and Alexia.

A few sideway glances are shot my way, as the whispers have already begun to formulate. Never once before has so much attention been drawn into my direction and I see now that I liked it better when I was over looked by the pairs of eyes that flit about the room. I close my eyes and breathe out slowly, as I recall the brief conversation I shared with my mentor.

I was deep into a conversation with Alexia when he grabbed me by the scruff of the neck and dragged me from the room. He slammed me up against the wall his eyes narrowed into slits so the color of his eyes were almost visible, "You really think this lover boy angle is going to get you anywhere? This role of a brave boy who volunteered for his childhood friend? Oh, the people of the Capitol have talking about the pair of you plenty."

I shoved his hand off of me, in a manner that made him stumble back a few paces. Corinth is a man only about ten years older than I, but he is the type who plays dirty to get at what it is he seeks. I remember his Games clearly, as if I watched them just yesterday. He backstabbed his entire alliance; including his District partner in the most brutal of ways.

"I am willing to play whatever angle it is I must to get her home," I say simply with a tone that hints at the concept that I will stop anyone who even tries to stop me. I do not fancy the idea of having to kill, but it is something that must be done and I will not allow these concepts to faze me.

Corinth just watches me for a moment before he bursts into bitter laughter," You're willing to play? You are willing to play the stakes that could end up in her demise?"

At these words I simply narrow my eyes at him; sending silent messages that if he has any brains he will soon back off, "She will not be meeting her demise. Not now; not here."

"And do you really think you can be so sure about that?" He asked me with a raised eyebrow.

"Yes, I am sure," I answered simply. If anything I will do what I can to earn us sponsors. Perhaps he is right about playing the role of a lover boy. Two orphans who have been thrown into the Games together, who have been friends since they were kids; those are the kind of stories the people of the Capitol eat up, even if it is nothing more than an act. I start to mull over the idea of how much of this really is an act?

Some ideas and emotions are only brought out to light in the most desperate of times, this I know from experience. Now thrown into the Games perhaps what I have known all along is finally starting to broil to the surface.

"You really shouldn't be boy. You're only from District 5, you may be tall and quite built, but that means nothing in the arena. Size is something that will be used against you by your opponents," He opens his mouth to say something else, but before another word can spill from his lips, I cut him off.

"I may only be from District 5, but I do not care what you have to say; I am getting her back home."

"Pike, what are you doing?" I open my eyes to see Alexia looking at me with her head tilted to the side. At the moment I find myself unable to speak, as I take in her appearance. Her outfit has turned her into a young woman who I have never graced my eyes upon, instead of the cute orphan girl I knew from back home. The way her hair is pulled back and done up in intricate knots brings her best features out to play. Her blue eyes shine brightly and once her gaze meets mine I find it nearly impossible to tear my eyes away. The corset she wears hugs her curves in all the right places and the deep purples that play across the fabric gives off the effect of wind blowing across the glassy surface of the ocean at twilight.

I open my mouth to say something, but the first time of the eighteen years that is the span of my life I find myself completely speechless and this is an aspect I do not like in the slightest. Alexia giggles softly, as she reaches up to adjust the large thorned headpiece that I have been forced to wear. "Did they put this thing on a little too tight?"

"No, they didn't actually Alex. Is it that difficult to believe that I'm that lost in thought that I have nothing to say?"

"Well Pike I know you and I know how brutally honest you can be so when you have nothing to say, then I just find that odd." I know it is almost impossible to hide anything from her, as having grown up together she has gained the ability to read me like a book.

"Just get on the carriage," I say this, as I take her hand and help her up the few steps that lead to our carriage. I stand next to her, focusing on keeping my breathing even.

"So did you break any stylist's noses while they worked on making you attractive?"

At her comment I can't stop the smile that forces its way onto my lips. She is one of the few rare people that are able to force this gesture out of me. "No, I didn't, but I thought about it a few times."

Alexia rolls her eyes playfully in response, as our carriage begins moving, "Why does that not surprise me."

I have to fight the temptation to shield my eyes the moment we are bathed in golden lights. The cheers of the crowd are almost deafening and I don't have the slightest idea, as where I should look. Alexia on the other hand is living in this moment, but I can see past her surface and know this is nothing more than an act. In these games we all learn to play a part who is not who we really are, but in my case I am really starting to believe it is different. The moment I hear several Capitol male citizens' wolf whistling at Alexia I can't stop myself from protectively wrapping my arm around her waist.

"Pike it's alright, their pigs there isn't allot we can do about that," She says softly, as she glances up at me. However the moment I hear them let off a string off unneeded comments I stick my hand high into the air flipping them off. However the Capitol seems to love this gesture and the roars of the crowd continue to grow to an ear splitting level. They love this charade that they are paying witness to, but I seem to be the only one who knows it is so much more than that.

**District 12 female tribute – Age seventeen - Bluebell Hart's point of view**

I run my fingertips over the fine piece of wood that I roll casually between my grasps. This fine match that which I stole from a passerby is something that I will cherish.

"But not, as much as I cherish you," I say to my stuffed rabbit Mr. Fluffiness, as I clutch him tightly to my chest. My hands twitch in a frenzy, as they long to strike the match; causing it to sprout red hot flames at its tip. I pull my knees up to the couch sitting cross legged, as I wait where I have been instructed to by my stylist. I run the match along the tight fitting coal black suit that I have been fitted into. Every aspect about this costume is appealing to the eyes, from the skirt that flows around my waist like smoke to my dark coal like dramatic makeup.

I stand up swiftly, as I tuck the match into the waves of my hair to be unseen by prying eyes, the moment the door opens and my stylist walks back into the room. "It's time I brought you down to where the carriages await."

"Lead the way kind sir," I giggle softly, as I skip over to him still clutching Mr. Fluffiness close to my chest. The sounds my knee length black sultry boots make against the marbled floors are ones that demand attention. This attention is something I will play up and use to my advantage. I will draw in my prey before I burn them alive, relishing in the sounds of their horrific screams.

I have heard the tortured screams of those who have had their flesh melt of their bones, in a hot bubbling mess. Those screams are what helped mold me into the unhinged girl I am today. Those screams are what haunt the halls of my nightmares, but they are now a part of me; something inescapable.

The moment I step foot into the carriage waiting center, I twirl across the smooth cobblestones, causing the skirt of my dress to splay out around me like smoky waves. Many pairs of years are trained on my petite yet alluring form and I find my eyes seeking out which one would be the most fun to play with; this is when my eyes fall upon him for the first time.

There he stands tall and proud; a boy that oozes confidence, the kind of boy I would take great pleasure in tearing down until there is nothing left, but his ashes. His demeanor screams that he is a career and I can tell by the way he puffs out his chest that he has proclaimed himself as the leader of this year's career pact. His bright green eyes are captivatingly dangerous and I long to see what his burning flesh would smell like, as it slides off his bones.

The boy of District 4 is easy to pick out in this crowd and unlucky for him, but he has become the fly that I will catch and watch as he tangles himself up in my web of lies. He catches me watching him and I quickly lift my hand waving to him in a manner that could be labelled as alluring. A small smirk graces his features, as he turns his attention back to his alliance, but I know this is nothing, but the beginning of his end.

I widen my eyes slightly, as I reach my carriage; my entire being oozing with an almost eerie innocence. I hop up onto my carriage with dainty steps and await the moment until we are to leave. I reach up and pull the slender match back out of my hair and continue to roll it between my fingertips. The tempting idea of striking this match here in front of everyone almost becomes too great and the only thing that cuts me short is the calm tone of my District partner, "What is that you're doing?"

"How about I show you," My voice drips heavily with a sweetness like honey, as I draw the match across the side of the metal carriage. The scraping sound that is drawn out of this motion is something that works like music upon my ears. Alexander's eyes grow wide at the sight of the flame that flickers playfully. Without another thought I lean down bringing the sweet flame to the base of my skirt. Instantly the flames begin to snake their way up the fabric, leaving my body glowing in warmth.

"What are you doing?" Alexander's voice is one that if full of confusion, as he removes his jet black jacket and gets to work smoldering the flames, but the damage has already been done. An innocent smile remains dancing across my lips, as I glance over at him; my demeanor giving off the impression that I don't have the slightest of ideas to what it is I have just done.

"I'm not doing anything," I giggle innocently, as I glance down at my costume which now has been charred all along the bottom. The grey fabric has now turned into a singed black color, but I can't stop the smile that tugs at my lips at this sight. The destruction one simple flame can cause is breathtaking in my eyes.

Alexander says nothing more to me, as he stands as far away from me as he possibly can. I don't blame him for doing so, as I am dangerous, but this is something that will only be truly shown at a much later date.

The moment our carriage begins to move and I am bathed in a glistening light is when I turn up the innocent act. I hold Mr. Fluffiness close to me, as I stand up on my tip toes trying to get a better look at the sea of faces surrounding me. I wave sweetly towards the crowd, as a dainty smile works its way onto my features. The crowd roars in excitement the moment I begin blowing kisses; they all want one from me, but the only thing I want from them is to smolder their lungs in a toxic smoke. Let them see me as nothing, but the sweet innocent girl of District 12 for now. Once I step foot into the arena however they will all see a new side to me; a side they will wish they never knew existed.

**So what did you think? Leave a review and let me know ;D**

**Now onto the sponsor question!**

**What did Maysilee Donner have as a pet?**

**The first to answer correctly will receive six sponsor points and the next three to answer correctly will receive four sponsor points!**


	17. These Games We Play: Training Part One

**The answer to my previous trivia question was: A canary.**

**The receivers of those points were ****Fleur-WickedWitchOfBeauxbatons ****who answered first and got six sponsor points. The following three e****ach received four sponsor points: Sweet 'lil Mockingjay, i-am-foxface,** **and ****QueenOfSwordsAndFire.**

**I want to give a quick shout out to XxFleurxX thanks for the cover page girl ;D**

**Also for each of the tributes I have made picture edits when I was procrastinating doing my homework :P so if you want the picture of your tribute just PM me and I will gladly send it to you! Now without further ado here is the first chapter focusing on training! :D**

**District 2 male tribute- Age eighteen- Morgan Scott's point of view**

My senses stay sharpened and alert, even while I am burrowed deep in this place that we call slumber. Images run rampant across my mind, playing as if it was nothing more than a movie screen, but I know this is reality not no picture perfect production with a happy ending. Even deep secluded in my bleak dreams I know there is no such thing as a happy ending in the Hunger Games.

Hidden deep away in this land of dreams all I can see are those crystal blues eyes, that I have looked into more times than one can count. Those beautiful eyes swarm my vision and only one name rolls over my tongue, Jamie. My stomach twists and turns into knots at the very thought of her. My sleeping form continues to mumble continuously, "I don't care, I don't care." However here lurking in the depths of my dreams I know she is one of the few I do care about.

I jolt straight up at the sound of a sharp rapping noise, pounding on my bedroom door. "Morgan Scott you are already late for training! You were supposed to be down there about an hour ago!" The high pitched voice of my mentor slithers its way through the solid wood of the door and collides with my ears. Her words begin to sink in and in the blink of an eye I am on my feet. I may have an uncaring demeanor, but I do know what it is I am doing.

Only a few simple moments seem to swirl by to be forever to lost to the depths of the hourglass that is counting down the amount of time I may have left to remain breathing. My sister would always compare life to an hourglass, saying how no matter how many times we start it over; it will always have to come to an end at some point in time.

Moments later I am ready in my training gear, with the large printed 2 standing out proudly on the smooth surface of my back. I push the door open to find Atria leaning against the wall, with a cross expression dancing across her features. "How is it that you are supposed to make a good first impression upon the other tributes when you are late for the first day of training?" She asks her voice dripping with a stern tone.

"Well I wouldn't have been late if someone had woke me up earlier," I respond back to her coolly, as we begin to walk down the hallway.

"I sent your District partner Kenzi up there to get you over an hour ago and she returned telling me you cursed her out and said to go away," She replies with a slight shrug. My dull blues eyes sparkle with an intensity that rarely ever wavers in their depths anymore. Already this early into the Games the ones I know I will have no problem of disposing of are making themselves apparent to me. How dare she think she can get away with something even if it is, as simple as lying about telling me to head down to training.

"That never happened," My voice remains elusive to any form of emotions. I know that girl will be staying away from this year's career alliance and perhaps this is the wisest of choices, but for me I know where my strategy lies.

"Do you know what it is you will be doing?" Atria asks, as we reach the large set of doors that act as a gateway to the training center; the heart of this building.

"Get in with the careers, earn their trust, then slaughter them all at the first moment that presents itself to me," I state simply, as I push the doors open. The doors smash against the walls causing many pairs of eyes to be drawn towards my form, but I could care less about the unwanted attention I have forced upon myself. Let them look before me, for all they know I could be the last thing they ever see before they close their eyes for the final time. My eyes fall upon the small group of careers that has formed and with confident almost lazy steps I make my way towards them.

My eyes instantly fall upon the boy who has his chest puffed out in a way that declares dominance. I roll my eyes at this sight knowing it is those with their heads shoved so far up their a*ses, drowning in their own arrogance, those are the ones who will fall the easiest.

"Well look who decided to finally show up," The boy from District 4 whose name as I recall is Theo says his entire form oozing with a confidence that almost forces me to roll my eyes once more. I could care less for this lot of four other careers who are all looking out for blood; the only reason I am bothering to get myself involved in this alliance is so they can get me further to the top. The less energy I will have to waste in my fight to reach the top the better.

"Sorry, but someone lied to my mentor about waking me before training," I send an icy glare in the direction of my District partner who is busying herself at one of the other stations on the other side of the room.

"Yes, the one girl who is stupid enough to turn her back on the careers," The girl from District 4 says with a sweet lightness to her voice. Her voice reminds me of the sweet delicacy of honey, but I can take one look at her and know she is not as sweet as she may appear on the surface.

I glance over at the pair of District 1 who appears to be having their own silent conversation and whatever it is the girl is telling the boy they both find it rather amusing. If I could be bothered to say something I would, but they are going to be dead in a matter of days so I don't see the point in placing my foot in places it does not need to be.

The drone of chatter begins to spread like a toxic sickness, as we begin to formulate ways to take out those we must grace with the undeserving title of competition. My mind is elsewhere as these plans are sorted out, as I cannot be bothered to put in any input to these crafty plans of deceit and brute force. I will keep my own thoughts hidden in the depths of my mind to be brought to light at the most deadly of times. When it is time to bring death upon those I am forced to ally with.

I stretch my arms high above my head, as a small yawn escapes my lips. Why is it that we must waste our time with this idle chatter, words cannot destroy lives they can only merely damage them. However words can push one to wreck destruction upon their self.

"What's with the yawn, I mean you got more sleep than the rest of us," I turn my attention to Foe the female tribute of District 1, as her partner bites his lip to hold back a string of chuckles.

I look back at Foe with an expression of boredom rippling across my features. "If you're going to try to say some sarcastic response to someone try to come up with a better one," I say flatly, as I turn and walk over to the sword fight station before she can even allow a response to flow freely from her lips. I have no time or patience for those like her, who think they can play with my head with petty insults and poorly aimed sarcasm. I can feel their eyes trained on me, as I run my fingertips along the cool metal of a blade; let them see what it is I am capable of.

**District 2 female tribute- Age 17- Kenzi Rodger's point of view**

I tap my slingshot restlessly against my thigh, as I eye the targets splayed out before me; easy targets if you were to ask me. With the slingshot held between my fingers I am ready to release my perfectly aimed shot, when the sound of wood smashing against metal tears through the entire room. My nimble fingers lose their grasp causing my slingshot to tumble down to the floor. A frown etches its way across my lips, as I look up to see Morgan casually strolling through the room, more than an hour late.

I can't stop the smirk that splits its way across my lips, as I know his tardiness is my fault and my fault alone. His mentor instructed me to wake him, but he is not my responsibility so I don't see the point in looking out for him. Besides he is one of them, the title of career we all have branded with, but I will stand on my own; the outcast if you will. I watch my fellow careers if only for a brief moment, but in this time Morgan sends an icy glare straight in my direction. I can feel my blood begin to boil at a low temperature and I have to clench my fists at my sides to stop myself from flipping him off.

"I see you're not the only one who has it out for the careers," I turn my attention towards the calming voice of the girl from District 11.

"What makes you think I have it out for them?" I say before I can even choose my words carefully, which I know in a place like this can be dangerous.

"Well you are a career, but you're not with them so you aren't one of them in a sense. Not to mention that boy from your District looks like he is just about ready to snap his neck, which leads me to believe you did something to set him off," She says with a slight shrug of her shoulders acting, as if the words that spill from her lips are obvious to all of those who surround us.

"Just because I refuse to be in their alliance doesn't mean I have it out for them," The words that I speak are only half the truth. No, I will not be going out of my way to run each and every one of them into the ground, but I will not hesitate to strike them down if I must.

"Well if you do take them out I shall thank you in advance," She smiles just a little bit before her features turn grim. "Well that is unless the girl from District 3 doesn't get her hands on them first. I walked past her and heard her muttering to herself about how she was going to sever their heads and place them on stakes for all of Panem to see," I pick up on the soft shudder that runs through her body at her own words. I can't stop myself from swallowing at thought of one running through the arena with bloodlust screaming in the depths of their eyes, vowing not to stop until the dark crimson blood of each and every career is spilt on their hands.

"Thanks for the heads up, I'll be sure to stay away from her, as I like my head on my shoulders. I'm Kenzi Rodgers District 2," I never really pondered the idea of allies ever since the thought of abandoning the careers rolled across my mind, as if it was nothing more than a deep purple storm cloud that was threatening to tear apart the Heavens.

"I'm Hadley June Chevalier from District 11," I reach down to pick up my slingshot from the floor and open my mouth to respond to Hadley, but instead a lethal set of curses force their way out of my mouth. I glance down at my hand to see a fine network of thorns had been conveniently placed over top the fine wood of my slingshot.

"I can only guess who did that," Hadley mumbles, as we both turn our heads in the direction of a burst of laughter, which seems to bounce of the walls and blends in a contrasting melody with the familiar sound of tributes training. I fix my eyes upon a head of bushy hair that bobs up and down with each spout of laughter that escapes his lips, from behind a dummy not that far away from where we stand.

"Didn't your mentor tell you that pulling stunts like that is what is going to make you enemies Bryson?" Hadley's voice is one that is laced in annoyance, but if I were to speak my voice would drip in a tone that was as toxic as acid. I kick the train work of thorns away from slingshot and pick it up once more. I can feel the singing sensation still lacing its way through the smooth surface of my flesh.

"I don't know what you are talking about!" The boy whose name must be Bryson calls back to us, but before another word can be spoken a perfectly aimed pebble is soaring through the still air, straighter than any arrow. The boy's laughter is cut short when the pebble comes into contact with the soft flesh that rests in between his eyes. I hear his body hit the floor rather than see it, as the dummy he hid behind cowardly mostly shields him from view.

A slight smirk tugs at my lips, as a light laughter from Hadley swirls in the air around us. "What an annoyance," I say coolly, as Bryson shuffles off to annoy some other unsuspecting tribute.

"He's my District partner and calling him an annoyance is an understatement. On the train ride here he threw a couple of eggs at me and his excuse was he was dying of boredom. Well if he keeps those kinds of actions up he is going to be dying allot sooner than he thinks," Hadley mutters softly. Several conflicting emotions appear to flicker across her features, as if she is surprised by the words that so easily flowed off her lips.

This is when I notice my mentor and brother Patrick standing not that far away from us. To me his expression is clearly readable, but to those around him his expressions appears drawn out and plain. He discouraged my choice to split from the path a career usually follows, but he knows allies are something I will need and the look on his face clearly reads that this girl standing before me is a perfect candidate.

I can feel myself bouncing up and down lightly on my heels, as if my energy level will slowly increase until everything explodes. I bite my lip, as I mull over the idea of an alliance, as after turning a cold shoulder to the careers this notion never once crossed my mind. Besides who would want to ally with a career, as we are notorious to wipe around tearing the flesh away from the ones that were once our allies.

Patrick appears to be able to read my thoughts clearly, as if I had spoken them directly to him. He just shakes his head, as if to say closing off the options of all allies will meet in your downfall. I want to believe that isn't true, but I want to believe I can somehow emerge victor without having to resort to the precious art of backstabbing. I glance back at Hadley and decide that discovering if trust could present itself is something I will wait to pay witness to.

**District 1 male tribute – Age seventeen – Dapar Radsha's point of view**

"Well doesn't he look like a ray of f*cking sunshine, my princess of a sister can glare better than he can," The sound of Foe's hushed comment that is directed at Morgan causes a look of amusement to ripple across both of our features. Already we have grown a disdain for our fellow careers, as we both can foretell that this alliance will fall apart sooner than it should. My brain starts rolling and that is when I devise a plan; I glance over at Foe with her alluring features and I know where I want my alliance to rest.

"We need to begin devising a strategy so I can be crowned victor as soon as possible," Our leader Theo announces, as a smirk tugs at his lips. I want to believe that he is the wisest choice for our leader, but with words such as that flowing freely from his lips, I am being proven otherwise.

"Actually what we should be doing is training so we can frighten the other tributes," Foe says in a drawn out voice. All Theo does is rolls his eyes in response, as his eyes dance across the room taking in our fellow tributes.

"I'm done listening to him if you want to come and train with me," I direct this comment to Foe and Foe alone.

She nods, but holds up her finger, as to motion me to wait just one moment. The look in her eyes clearly screams that she has a sarcastic response that cannot go unspoken. "What's with the yawn, I mean you got more sleep than the rest of us," I glance over at Morgan who looks cross and have to bite my lip to keep myself from chuckling.

"If you're going to try to say some sarcastic response to someone try to come up with a better one," Morgan responds flatly, as he leaves before another comment can even be said.

"What a prude," I say before I can even stop myself. There are moments where the words just flow freely from my lips before I can really process what it is I am about to say. Most would deem this as an unwanted quality, but in my case it usually draws people to me, instead of pushing them away.

Foe glances at me and laughs lightly, "Do you even know what that means Dapar because that insult is completely irrelevant to that conversation."

"Well it's an insult either way so it can't mean anything good," I say, as I scratch my head trying to think of its exact meaning, but nothing comes to me. Foe begins to laugh more at my obvious confusion. "Does it have to go with something about being a fat cow?" I ask her, but she just shakes her head, her laughter continuing to surround us. This display earns us an odd sideways glance by Theo and Vencitiy who appear to be arguing over some matters that I haven't been bothered to pay attention to.

"Don't mind us, just continue on arguing like an old married couple," At my words Theo's features contort into one that does not look impressed and even I know better than to stick around when one looks like that. I take Foe's delicate wrist and drag her away towards the fire building station.

"I thought he was about to hit me," I say, as we both half pay attention to the words the trainer speaks.

"Well maybe you shouldn't go about saying comments like that to the most arrogant tribute amongst our midst. Actually scratch that, say comments like that all you want because it keeps me entertained," Foe says, the amusement in her voice undeniable.

"Well as long as it keeps you amused then my well being shouldn't matter," With Foe I find the words we speak flow easily, as if they were nothing more than a crystal clear river. As I get to work building the fire before us my hand lightly grazes across Foe's. I glance up at her, but she acts as nothing happened, but the look in her eyes gives it away that she is fully aware of this physical contact. The attraction I feel towards her is undeniable, but I know if I am to make it home she has to die and I am not laying my life down for anyone. Not even this girl with the piercing silver blue eyes, which sparkle with a mysterious light, which is filled with so much life. A small frown plays across my features at the thought of that light being forever lost to the world.

Foe glances up at me and pays witness to the out of place frown that is still clearly etched across my lips. "Well what happened to that trade mark lopsided grin of yours?"

"I know my smile is attractive, but even I do frown once in a blue moon," Foe just rolls her eyes, as a high pitched scream tears its way through the air. This scream appears to tear away at the fabrics of the very air, as my eyes fall upon the source of this disruption.

The girl from District 7 is clutching her hands, as blisters have already began to snake their way across her flesh, but then my eyes fall upon the girl from District 12. She is innocence at its best and she looks up at the girl with an emotion that must be fright outlying the edges of her wide eyes.

"You just burnt me on purpose," The girl from District 7 whimpers quietly, as the trainer is at her side in moments inspecting her wounds.

"I didn't mean to, I have never dealt with fire before. I promise it was nothing, but an accident," Her voice is almost lyrical, as if all the sweetest of substances have been blended together into one simple sweet harmony.

"Fire building and a show," Foe mutters sarcastically under her breath next to me.

"Let's go to another station before were the next ones to get burnt." The girl from District 12 eyes us as we make our way towards the knife throwing station. I have to blink once to convince myself that there was no almost bloodthirsty smile creeping across her lips. I shake my head and all I see is an inviting smile, but I know better than to enter after what I just paid witness to.

The look that graces Foe's features the moment her finger tips brush across the flawless steel of a wicked sharp knife, I know that this is where she feels at home. I clumsily pick up a knife in my grasps, but I know my weapon of choice rests waiting for me to claim it as my own at a station across the room. I glance around the room and it is easily seen where the break points in the career alliance are, but I just shrug these thoughts off.

I turn to Foe and the next words that are about to spill from my lips are ones that I have chosen carefully, "I have an offer to propose to you." She turns to me with a slight interest dancing across her features. I know where it is I want my alliance to rest with; I know who it is I want to reach the final five with before our alliance is torn apart by unseen claws.

**District 4 female tribute – Age seventeen - Vencitiy Corbinette's point of view**

In one swift delicate movement I brush my thick chocolate hair over my shoulder, as I look upon Theo with a disdain that rarely ever graces my features. Our alliance has already dispersed into their own groups and busy themselves by working on their petty skills, that I could easily pick apart all of their mistakes. However here I am stuck with our arrogant self proclaimed leader, but I cannot stop the small smile of amusement that tugs at my lips at the thought of the incident on the train. He may believe he can do this on his own, but his own mentor quickly put him in his place.

Theo's axe cleanly tears apart the once still air, as I lean back against one of the counters, a drawn out expression of boredom worn clearly across my features. I glance down at my nails in a nonchalant manner before I speak. "Your foot work is all wrong, I hope you know that, but then again the more mistakes you make the more that works in my favour," My tone is spiteful and receives an icy cold glare in return.

"If you are going to do nothing, but stand there picking apart my all ready perfect technique you can go and pester someone else," Theo's glare remains clearly in place, his eyes almost appearing to be attempting to burn a red hot hole into my head. I dismissively wave this look off, as I turn away from him, as I try to decide who it is I can play with to pass the time.

"You're no fun anyways," I comment before I stride across the room, making sure my boots make plenty of noise with each delicate step I take. My hair sways gracefully back and forth, sweeping across my back, as I see the first of the tributes that may pose as some slight entertainment to me.

I make my way towards the weight lifting station and casually lean over one of the many weights that are set out, as I watch with slight interest the boy from District 10 lift weights that must weight almost as twice as I do.

"Not every day you pay witness to a boy able to lift that much," The moment he turns his attention to me I skillfully bat my eyelashes in a way that would rope in just about any boy.

He nods politely, as he sets the weights down at his feet, "Well not every boy lives on a farm and has to spend the better half of their day bailing hay."

"Oh, so you're a cowboy then," I flip my hair over my shoulder and by taking one look at this boy I know I am close to having him hooked. This is almost too easy, which defeats the purpose of fun; hence why I enjoy much more difficult challenges like those who already have their heart strung up on some other pitiful girl, who couldn't even come close to paling in comparison to myself.

I always found pleasure in tearing relationships apart at the seams, as that is where the most damage can be caused. My eyes dance across the room in one quite motion before they fall upon the pair from District 5 who busies themselves at the plant station. The way that boy looks at her I can easily tell there is more going on than one would first believe at a first glance. Perhaps they will be worth my time visiting at a later date.

The boy from District 10 makes a motion, as if he is tipping an invisible hat, as he smiles in a way he must presume is charming, "Yes, I suppose you could call me that, but you can call me Buck."

What were his parents thinking when they named him that? Really, sometimes I don't understand where parents come up with these grotesque names. My name however is one that is fitting to my stature, as it roughly means to conquer, which is something I plan on doing throughout these Games.

"I'm Vencitiy of District 4," I reach out a dainty hand, but I am sure to make sure my stature of career is well known. He takes my hand in his and politely shakes it, but not for a moment do his eyes leave mine. It is easy to tell that he is one that enjoys the art of flirting almost as much as I do, but I use this art for noting more than a personal gain.

"A career I see, I had better be careful not to get on your bad side then," Another smile graces his lips, as he pulls back his hand.

A soft giggle escapes my lips, as I make sure I stand up a little straighter, "You had better, unless you want to be just another face in the sky." My words seem to unsettle him slightly, as he rubs the back of his neck, but this is the reaction I had been seeking. Let it be known I am not one to cross. I have the looks that will make the other's underestimate me, but until they have seen me with a knife clutched between my fingers let them suspect nothing.

"Wasting your time speaking to lower District scum I see," Theo states simply, as he makes his way over towards a set of weights, but the moment these words are hurdled into the air surrounding us; it is easy to see that they do not sit well with Buck.

"What is it that you just called me?" Buck asks, as a slight edge begins to work its way into his tone.

"Lower District scum," The way Theo says this is as if he is talking to a small child who has a difficult time understanding the art of language. I lean back against one of the racks of weight, as I watch these two idiots hurl pathetic insults at each other. Boys with their testosterone levels running high and their undying need to prove their pride really just proves that they are nothing more than tools to be used by my whim. As this scene begins to slowly unfold before me, I can easily see just how easy the male species can be manipulated. You place a few precisely chosen words here, bat your eyelashes and flip you hair a few times and they will follow after you like a love sick puppy.

Buck takes two steps to close the gap between him and Theo, a look of anger intertwining its way through his fine features, "You want to say that again you stuck up arrogant career?"

Theo stands tall so he is level with Buck and speaks through clenched teeth. "Gladly, lower District scum." At these words Buck shoves Theo backwards and this is where I get myself involved, as the attention of several trainers is already being drawn our way. I stand between the two boys and place my hands firmly on their chests, keeping them a small distance away from each other. "Really boys, can't this wait till the arena?"

"She's right, but know this 10 your blood is mine," Theo growls in a menacing manner before he storms off, pushing anyone who stands in his way to the side in a motion lined with anger.

"Excuse my District partner, he is rather temperamental," As I say this I delicately place my hand on his arm, as I look up at him with an innocence that I know is nothing more than a facade, as I know exactly what it is I am doing.

"Great, first day of training and I already have a career out for my blood," Buck mumbles under his breath. I almost roll my eyes at this comment, as I know we are all out for blood even if we don't make that fact clearly known.

**Well there is the first chapter dedicated to training so what did you think? ;D**

**Alright I also just wanted to put this out there, as I am working out the possible order of what place each tribute will come in. Those of you who review more regularly there is a better chance your tributes will make it further into the Games. Is this my way of blackmailing you into reviewing well maybe ;)**

**And now onto the sponsor question!**

**What dessert did Katniss have with the flower shaped rolls in the Capitol?**

**The first to answer correctly will receive six sponsor points and the next three to answer correctly will receive four sponsor points!**


	18. Playing With Fire: Training Part Two

**The answer to my previous trivia question was: Pudding the color of honey.**

**The receivers of those points were Munamana who answered first and got six sponsor points. The following three each received four sponsor points: Fleur-WickedWitchOfBeauxbatons, Sweet 'lil Mockingjay and ChibiPanda315.**

**So I just wanted to say thanks to all of you who are reviewing keep it up ;D**

**And now onto the second part of training!**

**District 10 male tribute – Age eighteen – Buck Wolfe's point of view**

With the first day of training finally reaching its end we are all herded like cattle to the slaughter towards the dining hall. I keep to myself, as tribute after tribute files in and locates a spot to sit. I sit at a table away from everyone else; as I know I need time to decipher exactly what it is I have just done. How easily that boy was able to push my buttons and choose those few seemingly simple words that would cause my temper to flare. By allowing my temper to get the best of me I did nothing, but put a target on my back. I didn't prove a single thing to those careers, but perhaps I did show them that I am not one to mess with.

I breathe out slowly hoping that the events of this afternoon would flow away just as easily. I rub my temple softly unaware of the girl standing at the end of the table observing me closely. Already this early in the Games the pressure is slowly starting to get to me.

"Looks like the careers are already out for your blood. I overheard the idiot from District 4 talking about how he is going to slowly and painfully rip you limb from limb," I look up to see the girl from District 8 allow these words to spill from her lips with a slight shrug of her shoulders, as if they have no effect on her. In reality they really shouldn't; it is my life the careers are discussing ending not hers.

"Just what I needed to hear," I say back to her casually expecting her to leave me be after my comment, but still she holds her ground.

"Alright, I am going to get straight to the point here instead of trying to make small talk with you because honestly I have no interest in anything of the sorts," I raise an eyebrow, as she slides into the seat across from me and props her boots up on the table. They clatter against the fine wooded table, which causes a few pair of eyes to be drawn our way. I don't say anything not wanting to interrupt her, as the words that are about to roll off her tongue could be of some interest to me.

"The careers don't like you, which has made you a target. I don't like the careers and want to take them out of these Games as soon as I possibly can. I propose an alliance, as the careers will be after you and by yourself you won't stand much of a chance. With us in an alliance we run the chance of devising some form of a trap that they think will lead them to you, but will instead end up in their demise," As she speaks she leans forward slightly and drops her voice so her tone only reaches my ears.

I smile a little bit at the concept of having an alliance, as this could greatly work in my favor; also this girl seems as if she may know what it is she is talking about.

"Shouldn't we at least introduce each other before we form an alliance?" I flash a charming smile, but she just raises her eyebrow in response, as if to say don't even bother with the charming act with me.

"Smile at me like that again and you can forget about an alliance," At her words I put my hands up defensively, letting her know that it won't happen again. I always know when to back off when it comes to trying to flirt with the opposite gender, which in most cases seems to work in my favor.

"The names Buck Wolfe District 10," She rolls her eyes in response, as if she already knew this.

"I already know that, but I'm Rylinn Abrith District 8." With that our temporary alliance seems to have been formed; I can just hope that this doesn't backfire and end up blowing up in my face in the end. I open my mouth to further the conversation, but my words are quickly cut short by the sounds of glass shattering against the floor. My attention is drawn towards where the careers stand and out of the corner of my eye I notice Rylinn roll her eyes. "Damn temperamental careers, this is just fucking ridiculous now," She mutters beneath her breath.

My eyes fall upon the boy from District 2 who smashed a dish right out of his District partner's grasp. I shake my head slightly and in a way I agree with Rylinn's words. It has only been a few days into these twisted games and they are already at each other's throats. In a way that works out for us remaining Districts because with the careers already falling apart we stand a greater chance of survival. I lean back in my chair and decide to watch the scene fall into place before me. "Dinner and a show," My comment causes a small snigger to escape Rylinn's lips.

"If you have a problem Morgan how about you use your voice instead of breaking things like a child," The girl from District 2's voice is calm, but there is an underlining edge to it, that one cannot help but pick up on.

"You may not be in our alliance, but you have no right in making me look bad in front of everyone else," Morgan keeps a scowl rippling across his features, as these words easily flow from his lips.

"I don't think you need much help with looking bad, as you seem to do a pretty good job of that yourself," A small smirk plays across her lips, as she realizes just how much of an effect her words are having on her District partner. This is when I realize just how dangerous the careers can truly be. If they are already willingly ready to tear each other to shreds, the alliance that is supposed to stand the strongest throughout these Games at least that is until they all turn on each other; then they will have no issues with inflicting harm upon us who belong to the lower Districts. I push these thoughts away, as I don't see the point in dwelling over them in this moment of time.

Before any more words can be hurdled into the air around us the girl from District 2 whose name still escapes me is dragged off by someone who must be her mentor. Her fellow careers burst into cold laughter at this sight, as Morgan disappears behind the large wood doors that lead out into the hallway. I turn my attention back to Rylinn who has a look of amusement playing across her features. "At least their petty arguments are entertainment enough for us." A small smile tugs at my lips at these words, but I can't help but think how vastly our opinion on what is entertainment differs from those of the Capitol.

"Now I have to lie this out on the table because honestly I don't completely trust you, as of yet," Rylinn says with a slight shrug.

"Trust is something that has to be earned I understand, but I think an alliance between us will work out in both of our favor." Rylinn nods slightly in agreement, as she runs her fingertips lightly across a fine bracelet woven from red string that is wrapped around her wrist. At least with an alliance I can now believe that I stand a better chance of surviving the bloodbath, along with the dreaded clutches of the careers.

**District 6 female tribute – Age sixteen – Nelira "Nel" Blue's point of view**

The second day of training has already fallen upon us and I have already easily picked out who it is Collin and I need to look out for. I stay perched high up in the tree that stands tall in the middle of the climbing station; hidden amongst the green of the leaves. I can see everything from this position, the perfect hideaway to get a better look at the rest of the competition. The careers are our biggest threat this I already know and they have all ready displayed their rash and ruthless ways. Let them fight amongst themselves; that way they will be targeting each other and not myself and Collin.

There are a few others who may show themselves as being dangerous, but for the time being my main focus shall be the careers. I close my eyes briefly and find my thoughts drifting to my younger sister. I just wish I knew if my damned mother was looking after her or not. I won't be there to watch out for her anymore; unless I can go against the odds and emerge as victor, but I know that involves losing Collin. I won't admit it to anyone, but I love the kid to death. He's more like family to me than anyone else could be; even if he is the most annoying little shit to ever roam the earth.

With my gaze peering off into the distance, I am caught off guard the moment the branch beneath me begins to shake. I grip onto the rough bark and glare down at the little shit himself. "Are you trying to knock me out of the tree Collin?" I snap, but my tone only forces a smile to work its way onto his lips. Sometimes I don't even understand why he puts up with my attitude, but then again I suppose I don't mind that he does.

"No, I was only trying to get your attention. I said your name about three times, but you didn't answer. Were you too busy thinking about me?" He says this in a playful manner, as he pulls himself up to sit next to me.

"Actually I was thinking about how bloody annoying you are," I say this with a slight shrug of my shoulders, but my insults just bounce right off of him, as he knows I never really mean them.

"I may be annoying, but you love me anyways. What are you doing all the way up here anyways?"

"Climbing, what else could I possibly be doing Collin?" Sometimes I really wonder how this boy is even alive. Which is why I know I must do whatever it takes to remain breathing for as long as I possibly can in the arena because once my cannon is to tear through the arena Collin stands almost no chance of survival.

He scratches his head, as he glances over at me, "You could be umm playing hide and seek?"

I roll my eyes in response and fight the temptation to push him right out of the tree, but if I know Collin he would be the one to land on his head and he cannot afford to lose any more brain cells.

"You know Nel there are some really nice people here maybe we could add more to our alliance?" He looks over at me with those breath taking clear blue eyes of his and I sigh quietly. I know adding more to our alliance will force us into running the risk that it will either blow up in our face or they will only slow us down.

"Collin, I know it is better if for our alliance it just stays as the pair of us," My voice is laced with a tone that gives it away that there will be no changing my mind about this decision. Collin frowns a little bit, but this look quickly dissolves back into his features, as he knows that it is useless to try and go against my word. Once I have my mind set on something there is no chance in hell that one will be able to change it.

"Nel, can I ask you something?" Collin says after a few moments of a silence that blends in harmony with the sounds of tributes trying to pick up on the skills they will need to survive.

"Sure, go ahead." I say simply, as I swing my short stubby legs back and forth over the branch.

"If my father knew I was reaped do you think he would care?" He asks in a soft tone I rarely hear him use. The loss of our fathers is something both Collin and I share, but I know my father is buried in the cemetery back in District 6, while Collin on the other hand doesn't have the slightest idea where his father could be. Three years ago he mysteriously disappeared never to be seen again and ever since then Collin rarely brings him up.

"Of course he would care Collin, he's your father," Collin simply nods once, not liking the seriousness of the conversation in the slightest.

"You know the showers here are dangerous. I nearly scalded myself this morning then the stupid thing squirt grape juice in my eyes," I have to smile a bit at his change of topic. I don't know anyone else who could go from talking about the loss of their father to how dangerous a shower can be.

"That would be because you're not used to actually bathing," As I say this I slowly begin to work my way down the tree; moving with a grace that I am only capable of when I am hidden amongst the leaves. Collin scrambles down after me and lands in a heap of lanky limbs on the floor. I just shake my head, as I grab him by the elbows and force him back to his feet.

"You keep that up and the careers are going to label you as nothing more than a bloodbath."

Collin scrunches up his nose at my words, "Don't say that because now you sound like my mentor and she is one boring woman."

I open my mouth to say something, but am cut off by a string of soft whimpers. Both Collin and I turn our attention towards these strange noises to see the female tribute from District 3 slumped down against the tree. The way her features twitch portrays that she has been dragged deep under into a world of nightmares.

Collin being as naive as he is approaches Kallina and gently shakes her shoulders, trying to draw her back into reality so she is free from the horrors the plague her mind. Her sharp green eyes snap open, as a bone chilling scream escapes her lips. Collin stumbles back several steps landing hard on his back, as she pounces on him holding a blade to his throat. I react faster than any other trainer could, as the only person who can tackle Collin to the ground like that is me and me alone.

"Get the fuck off of him you crazy bitch," I holler, as I grab her roughly by the shoulders and try to peel her away from Collin. In a moment I feel another pair of arms wrap around my waist, as a pair of trainers have now gotten themselves involved. Much confusion follows until both Kallina and I are dragged away from each other. Collin remains sprawled out on the floor breathing heavily, as I shove the trainer off of me.

"You ever touch him again and I will cut you," I snarl at Kallina, who just narrows her eyes at me before she storms off in the opposite direction, still appearing to be unsettled by whatever it was she saw in her slumber tainted state.

"No, need to be so violent Nel," Collin says this, as he stands back up brushing himself off. "She didn't actually hurt me."

I take several deep breaths, as everyone around us begins to go back to what it was they were doing before all of this commotion. "I have a really bad feeling about that girl," I say after awhile.

"You get a bad feeling about almost everyone, except me of course," His lopsided grin is plastered back on his face, as if he didn't just have a blade pressed up against the smooth flesh of his neck, just a few moments ago. That small outburst of violence forces me to really face the situation that I have willingly thrown myself into. This is when all these Games begin to feel more than real.

**District 12 male tribute – Age eighteen – Alexander Devin Blake's point of view**

My eyes dance around the room, as I try to formulate which stations will best benefit me during my time in the dreaded arena. I know what I choose will greatly affect my chances of emerging victor, as I know every little choice I make has a bigger impact on my life and the world around me, more than anyone would be able to understand. I look at life such, as one would look at a footprint branded into the soft terrain of the earth; although you cannot see who it is that left that print that does not change that fact that it is still there. In this world of Panem unseen forces are always at play and many could hold the power to change my course in life.

I decide to make my way towards the plant station on my own, as I have yet to make any real connection with my fellow tributes, but I cannot help but think that perhaps this is a good thing. Without the bonds of trust I will not have to worry about having to cut them loose at a later date. I glance across the room where I see my mentor leaning back against the wall, her steely grey eyes piercing through the dull air. She did not win her Games by resulting to brute force, but by relying on her wits and brains to help her survive. She advised me to make an alliance with at least one other person, but I have yet to speak with anyone who I think could persuade me to lend them my trust. In reality I have barely spoken two words to any of my fellow tributes. The most words that have spilt from my lips would have been aimed towards my District partner Bluebell, but I know she is one who will never earn my trust.

I am not willing to play with fire when it comes to Bluebell. After she sent her chariot outfit aflame; I know there is something at play her mind, something much more dark and sinister then anyone would ever suspect. I have always taken the saying don't judge a book by its cover to heart and I have used this saying as a piece of advice, when it comes to assessing my fellow tributes. As I reach the plant station I soak in everything the trainer has to say, as my eyes sweep across the room once more.

My eyes land on the careers and they don't hide much beneath their surface. The wicked smiles that grace their lips, as they wield their weapons of choice are enough to send icy claws raking down my spine. They know what it is they are doing, as many of them are here by choice and that is something that cannot be taken lightly. The boy from District 4 Theo appears to be the biggest threat when it comes to the careers. He stands tall above them all and his past actions of already clawing at his fellow tributes throats portrays to me that he is one that will tear my throat out; without as much as a second thought.

My eyes then fall upon the girl Kallina from District 3 and every tribute here has heard the sinister words that spill from her lips; words of revenge against the careers. I know if she has no problem with cutting them down to size then she will have to issues doing the same to me. My train of thoughts are cut off by the gentle touch of a pair of hands on mine.

I glance up into a pair of rich brown eyes that appear to be off in a faraway place. "Don't mix those plants together otherwise you'll create a mixture that will burn your hands," I glance down at my own hands and I hadn't even realize exactly what plants I had been holding between my clutches. I put the plants down next to me, but I can't help, but following the intricate criss-cross pattern of burns that line this girls hands. I vaguely remember her as the female tribute from District 7, but at this moment her name escapes me.

"What happened to you hands?" I ask her after a few moments, even though she has now gone back to dealing with her own array of plants that are set out before her.

"The girl from District 12 burned me, even though she claims it was nothing but an accident," At the mention of Bluebell my gut tells me that those burns where anything, but an accident. If Bluebell can set her own outfit ablaze without much of a thought then burning another must almost come as second nature to her.

"If I were you I would just avoid her at all costs," I keep my eyes trained on the plants before me as I speak. I never was one to keep a conversation going, but the look in this girl's eyes lets me see that she is perhaps much of the same way. Daydreamers is what we would be branded as, but the thoughts that run rampant across the mind of one who is lost above the clouds can in some cases be ones that are insightful on a whole new level.

"That is what I plan on doing; you're her District partner are you not?" Her voice is soft, as if it were a whisper amongst the trees.

I nod once in response, "Yes, that would be me; the names Alexander Blake."

"I'm Ayla Treleve, as I'm sure you don't remember me from the reapings," She says this with a slight shrug, as if she is fairly used to being overlooked. I wonder if she realizes this is something that could work out in her advantage once we step foot into the arena. One look at this girl and I can already see that she is one who could be trusted. She doesn't appear to be the type who would turn around and stick a finally placed knife between my shoulder blades at the first chance that presents itself.

"Ayla do you have an alliance by any chance?" I ask her before I can stop myself.

She shakes her head softly no in return, "No, I was offered to join the alliance with my District partner that he has formed with the girl from District 10 and the boys from District 8 and 9, but I declined. I would much rather either work alone or only with one other person."

"Perhaps I could be that one other person?" She smiles a little bit at my words and I already know her answer before it spills from her lips. We work together for the rest of the afternoon, as tales of another world flows freely from both of our lips. Ayla tells the most fascinating of stories and each has an underlining moral to it. Morals are something that will be tested within the next few weeks, but I refuse to turn my back on my own.

**District 5 female tribute – Age eighteen – Alexia "Alex" Tide's point of view**

I roll the lightweight spear between my delicate clutches, as my eyes follow the dark wood towards the flawless steel point that rests peacefully at the end. As kids Pike and I would spend allot of time hurling sticks across our meadow to see who could come the closest to the target. Looking back now it seems like a childish way to pass the time, but now thrown into the Games it may pay off to our advantage.

I glance over at Pike who stands just a few feet behind me; leaning against a counter with his eyes lightly closed shut. I can't help, but feel selfish at the thought that I am almost glad he is here with me, as that way I won't have to go through this alone. I bite my lip softly at the thought of him dying because of me, as I know he would willingly lay down his life to protect mine. Loyalty and friendship is a bond we share, but I have had stronger feelings for him for some time now, but that is something that is unknown to him.

He has been at my side through everything, but I still can't place my finger on the concept of love. Being in love with your best friend seems like some form of a tale that you would tell a child before they drifted into a world full of slumber tinted dreams. I can't be in love; not here, not now. I push away all thoughts about losing Pike to the hands of another, as I approach him my spear still held tightly between my clutches.

My form oozes an aura of bubbly optimism, which clashes with the gruff aura that Pike gives off, but somehow they play in a perfect harmony with each other. I playfully poke him in the cheek with the point of my fingertip, which causes him to open one deep brown eye to look at me. I open my mouth to say something, but instead the taunts from the pair from District 1 begin to swirl around the air surrounding us.

"Won't the Capitol love watching the two lovebirds get torn apart," The girl from District 1 whose name I recall as being Foe coos, as her partner makes kissy faces in our direction. I can feel Pike's entire form tense next to me, but I refuse to allow them to see me as someone who needs to be protected by him at all times.

Without much of a second thought I hurl my spear in their direction so it cuts through the air just in front of them and embeds itself into the throat of a dummy across the room. Pike arches an eyebrow in my direction, as he knows I am not the type to show off in this manner. I however know that was mostly just a lucky shot, but I will let them believe that I know exactly what it is I am doing. "I suppose it's unfortunate that they won't get the chance to pay witness to that," I say this with a smile dancing across my lips, which only causes Foe to narrow her eyes in my direction and for Dapar to keep his wide eyes transfixed on the dummy, which now has a delicate scarlet river streaming out of its fatal wound.

"If you two are done acting like arrogant idiots you can leave us alone," Pike waves them off with a look that can only be defined as unimpressed rippling across his features.

"Don't think you've frightened me with that lucky shot of yours," Foe scowls, as she strides off with Dapar following close behind her.

I blow a piece of hair away from my face, not appearing to be bothered by that small confrontation in the slightest, unlike Pike on the other hand. "Why must everyone keep mocking us with that title?" He mumbles beneath his breath.

"You volunteered because of me Pike, they have their reasons to believe what they do," I say with a slight shrug of my shoulders. Before he can say anything else I gently place my finger over his lips to stop him from arguing with me. The feel of his lips against the flesh of my finger sends an entirely new sensation tingling through my body. I can't place a name on what it is I feel, but never once before have I really paid attention to the fine details of his lips. I can feel a blush begin to dust its way across my cheeks, as I sharply pull back my hand and just simply shake my head. "I just don't want to speak about you volunteering is all," As I speak I rub my cheeks lightly, causing my blush to dissolve back into my features.

"Whether we talk about it or not won't change the fact that I'm here," As these words flow from his lips I turn my back to him and stride back over to the rack of spears. I look them ever, making it appear as if I am busy, but in reality what I am trying to do is sort out the array of emotions that wreck havoc upon my mind. What is it that I exactly feel in this moment? I feel angry with Pike for volunteering to be here. I feel guilty because it is my fault he volunteered in the first place. I feel glad that he is here with me, that way I don't have to go through this alone, but that also makes me selfish. I feel despair at the very thought of him leaving this world; without him what would I have left? I have no family being an orphan and Pike is my only friend. I am supposed to be the cheerful one, but everyone has their limits.

I close my eyes lightly; as I feel a large calloused hand gently touch my shoulder. "Alexia, you have to believe me when I say things are going to be alright," I am one of the few people he will show his softer side to and in a way that kills me. That proves just how close we really are, but how much longer can this possibly last?

I shove his hand away from me, as I turn around sharply to face him. Several conflicting emotions boiling to my surface as I speak, "How can you possibly say everything is going to be alright Pike? I will not have you die for me you got that? How can you possibly believe I could live with myself if I just allow that to happen?" Several glances are cast our way, as my tone rises to a level I never use especially with Pike.

"It is my life and I will do with it as I please and if that involves dying so you can go on and live out your life then you need to accept that," He answers back simply, as he tries not to raise his own voice to my level.

"Accept it?" My tone is one of disbelief, as to me accepting something such as that is impossible.

"Let me throw this out there, what if I was to say I am going to die for-," Pike cuts me off before I can even finish my sentence.

"Don't even think about it Alexia," He says firmly. At these words is when my frustration really begins to boil through my veins.

I open my mouth to further the argument, but before I can his lips collide with mine throwing me into a stunned silence. My heart hammers wildly against my chest, as I push him back. "Pike," My voice trails off and I can see the same confusion I am feeling in this moment dancing across his features. Before any more words can be hurdled into the air around us I am running towards the door and out into the hallway. I can hear him calling after me, but I do not stop. I need to breath and I need to think.

I step into the elevator and slump down to the floor with my head buried in my hands. Never once had I imagined my first kiss with Pike to be anything like that. To be brought on during the heat of an argument here in the Capitol. I gently place my fingertips against my lips and I can still feel them tingling in a way that has left me wanting more. The Hunger Games is no place for something such as this, but this may be our only chance to experience being together. I draw my knees up to my chest, as I rest my head on my knees. I am beginning to regret running like that, but there is nothing I can do now to change my course of actions.

A small smile creeps its way across my lips even though I know it shouldn't. Now I see that I am not the only one who feels this way and I know I cannot avoid him for that long. I need to speak to him again, but until then I need to be on my own.

**And that is the end of the second part of training ;D**

**Oh, romance won't that be fun ripping apart during the Games! You had all better have your tissues handy for later ;)**

**Anyways I should have the third part of training up soon and then I will only have four more chapters until the actual Games start!**

**Now onto the sponsor question!**

**What are the exact words of the final sentence in the Hunger Games book?**

**The first to answer correctly will receive six sponsor points and the next three to answer correctly will receive four sponsor points!**


	19. Anything But A Fairytale:Training Part 3

**The answer to my previous trivia question was: "I take his hand, holding on tightly, preparing for the cameras, and dreading the moment when I will finally have to let go."**

**The receivers of those points were KingWolf111 who answered first and got six sponsor points. The following three each received four sponsor points: i-am-foxface, TheKatieKat and MadolynMcGinty**

**District 5 male tribute – Age eighteen – Pike River's point of view**

I watch as Alexia dashes out of the room without as much as a second glance and this is when I know I have taken the wrong course of actions. What the hell was I thinking that kissing her would be alright? I scowl at anyone who even dares to look at me in this moment and in my frustration with myself I smash my fist into a dummy with enough force to send it shattering to the floor. I breathe in sharply, as I briskly walk out into the hallway with nowhere to go.

I lean back against the wall and this is when I see clearly that none of this was ever an act and now everyone who paid witness to my lack in judgment shall know this. How could I ever believe that even for a moment she could feel the same way? We are complete opposites and whoever said opposites attract is full of bull. I swallow once knowing I need to speak with her, that way I can salvage this friendship. One awkward kiss should not be what breaks us, not after it has only been the two of us for this long. Perhaps I am over thinking the entire situation, but then again perhaps I'm not.

I slowly begin making my way towards the elevator, as I mull over what it is I should say to her. What was it that drove me to press my lips against hers? To go about that one seemingly simply action that caused the entire room surrounding us to dissolve into nothing. I've always been one to be brutally honest and maybe I was just tired of living through this act we had been forced to play.

I was never much of an actor and I should have known it was only a matter of time before this facade came crashing down around me, without as much as a feeble warning. I acted on impulse that was blended together in a perfect harmony with desire. A deadly combination as many would see it, but this creates it into being almost impossible to turn away from. It draws you in and captivates you with its sweet thoughts of what could be.

I never liked the concept of what if; I hate always wondering what the outcome of my actions could possibly be hence why I never beat around the bush. However it is situations like this that perhaps I should have stuck to thinking about the what ifs and the could have been. I curse beneath my breath, as I slam my fist down onto the button for the District 5 floor. If things were not complicated before they sure as hell were now.

At this moment I long to go back to the days when we still held a certain innocence about us. I want to go back to the times where we were free from the holds of the reapings, but now it seems as if those days never did exist. Here we are about to be torn apart and I will not allow one stupid kiss to cause that to happen sooner than it ever should. The moment the elevator doors open I walk down the hall with an air of determination surrounding me. I will fix any damage I have caused even if in a way I am glad I got to feel her lips once against my own once before I depart from this world for forever more.

I stop just outside her room knowing there couldn't be allot of other places she could have gone. I lift my fist to the door, but remain still for a moment, as if I had been frozen in time. I don't want to lose her so soon in these Games, but how could one simple kiss be the thing to rip us apart? I go to knock on the door, but before my fist can connect with the finely wooded door the door opens and Alexia is there standing before me.

"Oh, Pike I was actually just going to come and try to find you," She says softly, as she tries to keep her usual smile in place.

"Perhaps we should pretend that kiss never happened," I blurt out before I can change my mind about my choice of words. I however know that is one moment in my life I will never be able to just forget. It will forever be branded into the depths of my mind, never to be lost amongst the whispers of the wind.

She glances up at me and remains quiet for a few moments, as if she is carefully trying to decide what to say, "I can't just forget that, but don't think that for a minute that things are going to be awkward or anything of the sorts." I breathe out slowly in relief, but I can't help but long to lean down to have our lips collide once more. I can't tell if Alexia is thinking the same thing or not, as at the moment I watch as her eyes trace the slight curve of my lips. She catches my gaze watching her and she quickly brings her eyes up to meet my own.

"We can just put it behind us; it will make things easier on the both of us," However the look in her eyes screams that she doesn't want to put this behind us and either do I. What is one to do when thrown into a situation where both love and life are at stake? This is something that is not easily figured out, but then again love was never meant to be easy. What direction is one supposed to take after you kiss the one girl you have longed to for many years, but both of you are in a way too afraid to follow through with any forms of emotions? My eyes will forever be closed before I can ever come to an answer to this question with seemingly no correct response.

I want to go back to that perfect moment with her lips pressed against my own; that moment where I was able to forget everything about the world surrounding me. I never was one for complex emotions and perhaps this is the reason why I have denied feeling this way for so long, but now I see that there isn't much time left to experience what it is I have felt for who knows how many years now.

In the eyes of all of Panem this was supposed to be nothing more than an act; an act that would help us progress further into these twisted Games we must soon play. If only the world knew this was never an act to begin with. I am here by my decisions, no matter how foolish volunteering must appear to be to the rest of the world. Many volunteer, but for the sole purpose of obtaining glory, but that was never my intentions. I am here to protect not here to win.

Mine and Alexia's story was never meant to be some fairytale with a happy ending. If I have learned anything in my life it is that happily ever after never did exist.

**District 8 female tribute - Age sixteen – Rylinn Abrith's point of view**

I run my fingers over the cool gold colored handle of the whip that I hold tightly between my clutches. My eyes flash dangerously, as I perform a few simple steps that one of the trainers showed me. Every movement feels nothing but natural to me, as if this weapon was meant for me. The bladed tip slices through the air, as if it were made of the softest of materials. I crack the whip down so it collides with the smooth surface of the floor, which causes a cascade of sparks to be thrown into the air surrounding me. I glance down at the weapon that is now resting peacefully between my fingertips and I know if I can get my hands on a weapon such as this during the bloodbath, then my chances of survival will greatly improve.

I glance across the room towards Buck who busies himself with lifting weights. He is another aspect that will help me reach the top. I will use him as I please, as long as it benefits myself. Unlike a few people here such as my District partner I give a damn about my life and I have no plans for perishing in that retched arena for all of Panem to see. I run my fingertips through my inky black hair, as I realize I am being watched at this very moment.

I glance over at the boy from District 3 who appears to be watching me intently, but I keep my features down out into a line of boredom. My captivating green cat like eyes are immediately drawn towards the bruise that is dusted across the flesh of his cheek. I tilt my head to the side slightly causing my hair to spill just over my collarbone, as I wonder what form of trouble he has gotten himself into already and how can I get myself involved.

"What the hell are you looking at?" I ask the boy whose name I cannot recall with a slight edge to my voice. I don't like the way his eyes glance over my body, as he barely even allows his eyes to lay grace to my features.

"Just one of the more beautiful tributes is all," He grins in what he must presume is a charming manner, but to me this look is one of the most sleazy things I have ever paid witness to. Only a few choice words have been hurdled into the air surrounding us and already I long for him to leave me be, but perhaps I can have some fun with this before I show him I am not one to be messed with. I did not receive my reputation back home by sitting around drinking tea. Besides how people drink that crap is beyond me.

"Oh, how flattering," I say sarcastically, as I roll my eyes. I never liked boys like him; who think they are God's gift to the world and that people should kiss that ground which they walk upon. How about I kick the dirt from the ground into his eyes, besides that would be a better past time for myself.

"No, need to sound so sarcastic love," My jaw clenches at these words, as _nobody _ever calls me that. Now I can see that this boy must be just looking for trouble and I begin seriously contemplating adding to his collection of bruises.

"Do not ever call me that again. My name is Ry to the likes of you," I say through my teeth, as he takes a few strides closer to my form, but I stand up a little straighter and hold my ground. It does not matter if this boy towers over me; one look at him and one can tell he is nothing but talk; if put to the test his skills would prove to be less than desirable.

"And my name is Benji, but you can call me whatever pet name you choose," I clench my fists at my side, fighting the temptation to knock him straight to the floor.

"I suppose I shall just call you asshat then," A small smirk tugs at my lips, as a look of distain plays across his features. If only he knew he was playing with fire and when one is to do so they are going to get burned.

He places his hand dramatically over his heart, as if my words had actually inflicted physical pain upon him, "Ouch, you should know I am fragile and words such as that actually hurt." All I do is roll my eyes in response and turn my attention back to the dummies splayed out before me. Only a few more days' time and those dummies will be replaced with real breathing human beings. No longer will the crimson that pools across the floor be fake, but it will all become very real to us.

"Well perhaps if I increase the harshness of my words you will leave me alone," I wave my hand dismissively expecting him to finally get the message that I do not want him anywhere near me. However instead of getting the message he walks even closer still and places a hand on my shoulder turning me around. I narrow my eyes at him, as I do not like being touched. I step back from him wanting to put as much distance between the pair of us as I possibly can. This boy is beginning to really get on my nerves and I know now I must resort to more drastic measures to force him into fleeing from my presence.

He shrugs lightly, as his eyes gaze every aspect of my form except my face once more, "Call me all you want, it doesn't really hurt."

"Well perhaps this will," I scowl, as I flick my wrist causing my whip to wrap its way around his ankle. In one swift movement I pull on the whip causing his feet to be pulled right out from beneath him. He lies in a crumpled heap on the floor, as he looks up at me with an expression of astonishment. Many girls before myself may have just waved him off, but I have all the means to put him back into his rightful place; which in my opinion is beneath the lowly dirt under my boots.

"Now listen here you insignificant little worm if you ever come near me again I will end you before the Games even start. I am no piece of meat for you to ogle over, but I am a human being and I have no problems with pushing you away using violence if I must," I growl beneath my breath, as I toss my whip towards his stunned form, only narrowly missing the flesh of his face by inches. I stride across the room my boots clicking loudly against the floor, but in reality I could care less about my surroundings.

At this moment all I am focused on is winning and I will cut down anyone who stands in my way of doing so. I may only be from lowly District 8; the District that is said to be the most plain and boring, but I refuse to go down without a fight. Why must I die for the Capitol's damn entertainment? I clench my fists at the thought of maybe one day the citizens of the Districts watching the children of the Capitol fight to the death in an arena created by people like myself. People who hold much a hate for everyone who has Capitol blood coursing through their veins. Many did not choose to belong to those branded as Capitol, but then again I never did choose to be a piece in their games.

**District 7 female tribute – Age sixteen – Ayla Treleve's point of view**

Several days of training have come and gone and now only a few remain until the day twenty three of us lose our lives. Many may ask what it feels like to have the looming fact that your death is drawing closer with each breath you takes feels like and I only wish that I had a proper answer. I sit cross legged on the floor in the knot tying station, as I work my nimble fingers through the fine pieces of rope before me. Life is much like the knots held between my clutches, as they can be pulled away just as easily as life can be. No knot can withstand all the elements that are thrown its way much like life.

No life was meant to stand above all the harshness that our world can call forth and this is something that has become more than clear to me now. I bite my lip softly at the thought that I will soon just be another name lost amongst the whispers of history. I never left a great impression upon the earth that I walked upon. I was nearly there, but never really present in a sense. Many may not understand what it is I mean, but perhaps it is better this way. If I can't have my own opinions about the world then what do I have that is mine and mine alone?

My thoughts are something that I hold dear, as I cling onto the dreams that plague my mind. They are my form of an escape; a release from this world that holds me grounded. Perhaps passing onto the next life won't be as frightening as I may think it is. At least that way I will be free of my bonds that hold me prisoner to the earth. High above the clouds one day I will soar and I can see now that day will be sooner than I ever thought it would be.

I breath out slowly at the very thought of being nothing, but a lifeless form drifting along the soft breeze of the wind. The enthralling freedom that thought brings forth is something I seek after with much desire. Desire is a dangerous emotion this I know, but sometimes one cannot help, but feeling this way. Freedom is something that has been snatched from our grasps and that is why I want nothing more than to taste its sweet flavors.

"I want to be free," I whisper for no one to hear, as my eyes are full of a faraway dreamy look. It appears as if I am no longer a part of this world, as my mind is far away above the clouds. I close my eyes and I can picture myself floating along the breeze with my arms spread wide. Would I miss the things that hold me to this world such as my family and the thought of being nestled amongst the trees? Perhaps, but the desirable thought of freedom is something I would much rather hold dear.

"Ayla?" The sound of my name drifting through the still hair is enough to draw me out of my dream tinted state. My rich brown eyes fall upon the young features of my District partner Hadrian. I remain quiet, as I blink a few times allowing him to know he has at least half of my attention, which is more than anyone is able to get out of me.

"I wanted to make sure that you were sure about not wanting to join an alliance with me," His voice is sincere, as if my chances of survival actually matter to him and this causes a faint laugh to escape my lips. Hadrian raises his eyebrow and looks, as me oddly. I am used to receiving looks such as this, as my sense of humor has always been a little off. I was never one to laugh along with those surrounding me, but I would laugh along to a beat no one else would understand. I like it better this way, as with no one quite having a grasp on who it is I am I don't have to live up to the expectations of who I am supposed to be.

"I am quite sure besides I have an alliance with someone else," I nod politely, but I can see a faint emotion glimmering in the depths of his eyes. Perhaps it is despair or maybe it is just the stress beginning to work its toll on him.

"Oh, well I guess good luck in the arena then," He rubs the back of his neck, as he stands back up and glances in the direction of where the rest of his alliance resides. An interesting group it is that has formed between them. The boy from District 9 with the cold outer shell that holds the effect to send shivers chilling through ones entire being. The girl from District 10 who rubs her temples, as the stress and pressure wreck havoc upon her mind, but there is a fiery bravery that boils in the surface of her eyes. The boy from District 8 who seems lost in his own world of despair, as if he is already accepting the fact that he will soon be departed from this world. Then finally Hadrian from my own home of District 7 a boy who I can tell holds onto a close connection with nature. An odd group it is that they have formed, but perhaps this will work in their favor, but then again it may not.

"Good luck to you as well," I say barely above a whisper, as Hadrian casts me one last look before walking off to join the rest of his alliance. I go about busying myself with tying knots once more, as my mind begins to slip away between the cracks. I am barely present in this world we call Panem, but I know that is nothing but a name. A name is nothing, but a label that has been thrust upon us; something that we have no say in. I begin to hum softly, as I mull over the concept of labels. If I were to choose my name what is it that I would choose? Maybe I would go by the nameless girl, but even then that will become an unwanted label.

My mind drifts towards the idea that this is a label that has already been graced upon me. I have always been the one who is easily overlooked and even here thrown into these Games that concept has not changed.

**District 9 male tribute – Age eighteen – Nathan Ripley's point of view**

I stand within the small group that is my alliance with my arms crossed firmly across my chest. My demeanor screams an icy coldness, but my alliance has learned that there is more to me than that. Having a younger sister I have always felt the need to watch out for those who are younger than myself, hence why I have aligned myself alongside some of the younger tributes, that have been forced to partake in this year's wicked games. I listen, as Cassie formulates plans for the bloodbath, but I already know what it is I will be doing. Perhaps it will be against my orders, but I will stand the greatest chance of getting out of there alive.

"Nathan are you even listening?" Cassie glances over at me with an arched eyebrow and all I do is simply shrug in response. I am listening to the words that spill from her lips, but my mind is also focused on something else in this moment of time. I have grater worries at play here in my life, other than the risk of having my own life ended at this young age. I have worked hard my entire life to keep my family alive, but now all of that almost seems, as if it was nothing more than a waste of time. All of my work will go to waste once my eyes fall close, never to open to pay witness to the world around me again. Without me there to be able to provide I know my family will not last long. My mother will wither away to nothing, while my sister will be taken away from everything she once knew and be forced to live in the community home.

I can feel my mind begin to blur along the edges, as a soft anger begins to intertwine its way through my veins. When I fall into this state is when I am most vulnerable. My mind becomes clouded and my once sharp mind becomes a target to mistakes. I blink once, shattering the anger tinged state my mind had begin to crawl towards. I need to use these feelings to my advantage, instead of allowing them to hinder me.

"As I was saying before the plan is simple; Nathan and I will rush the cornucopia and retrieve as many supplies as we possibly can for the four of us. Hadrian you are to meet up with Shohn as soon as the gong sounds and get somewhere safe, where Nathan and I can locate you soon after," Cassie continues to plan out our strategy and this is where she is in her element. She is one that you can tell is a natural born leader, but I have seen the small toll the pressure has begun to have on her. Then again one cannot blame her for feeling this way, as we all feel the pressure of wanting to come out on top; the careers included.

All of our attention is torn away from strategy planning at the sound of a booming voice that is laced with an over confidence. My eyes are drawn towards the boy from District 4 Theo, as he points to every tribute dotting the room, "Bloodbath, Bloodbath, will be dead by the end of the first day." He continues to go about labelling how he perceives each tribute will perform once the Games start. I shake my head in slight disdain, as this boy labels almost everyone as being dead by the end of the first day or as a bloodbath. If the careers should learn anything it would be never to underestimate your competition.

"He seriously gets on my nerves," Hadrian says after awhile, as the sound of Theo's voice eventually fades into the background.

"He told me the other day that I would be the first to die during the bloodbath," Shohn says, as he keeps his eyes transfixed on the floor. I clench my jaw at these words, as I won't stand to have some arrogant pig think he can walk all over every other tribute present.

"Let him think what he wants; he will get what's coming to him," My cold distant voice swarms the air, which causes my entire alliance to glance over at me. They all know me as a man with few words and every time that I do speak they appear to act, as if it is the first time they have ever heard the sound of my voice.

"Just don't go and do anything rash Nathan; otherwise you are just going to end up getting yourself killed," Cassie says with that brutal honesty of hers. In the short time I have known her I have found her to be one that speaks her mind and says things as they present themselves. I keep my gaze locked on the small group of careers, who go about showing off the talents the posses. More than anything I want to prove to them that underestimating us is the one fatal mistake they could make that will lead to their downfall.

My mind is already at work as to how I can go about this and this must be clearly shown in the reflection of my eyes, as Cassie stands up on her tip toes in front of me, "Nathan, do not go and do something stupid that will only put a target on your back."

"I'm going to train," I state simply, as I make my way towards the sword station, where the District 2 boy seems to have scared everyone else away from. He moves across the floor, as if he was some part of a deadly dance and one can easily tell if he gets his hands on a sword during the bloodbath he will have your head. He continues to twist and turn his body, as he decapitates every dummy in sight, but not once do his eyes leave my form. He eyes me closely almost appearing to be screaming for a confrontation. I snort lightly at this sight, as many careers don't even have to be provoked before they go looking for a fight.

I am not looking for a fight, but I am merely proving that I will not fall that easily. I pick up a wickedly sharp blade and gingerly run my fingertips along the flawless steel. The trainer is at my side in a few moments and briefly explains to me a few basic steps. Once I feel that I have gotten a hand on wielding this weapon between my clutches, I walk out onto the mats where Morgan continues to go about destroying dummy after dummy. A small chill runs down my spine, as I imagine the faces of my fellow tributes upon those dummies that is until they are splayed out along the floor in a river of scarlet.

"Can you not see I am training here?" Morgan says coolly, as I practice a few of the most basic of moves.

"Can you not see that I am doing the same thing," I answer back in a tone that emits a chilly coldness. Morgan narrows his eyes, as he knows he won't be able to scare me off like he has done to most of the other tributes. I glance behind him towards my alliance where I can see Cassie just shaking her head, as she does not agree with what it is I am doing.

"You are just going to get in my way," He scowls, as he skewers his own blade straight through the dummy I had been aiming at. Before I can really think about what it is I am doing, I bring the hilt of my blade down onto his blade which causes him to stumble back a few steps. In a blink of an eye we both have the flawless steel aimed towards each other's necks.

"Don't think you careers are the only ones who stand a chance of survival," I say coolly, as I push his blade away from my neck and throw my own to the floor so it sends an ear splitting clattering noise tearing through the air. As I begin to walk away I can hear Morgan mutter beneath his breath, "Well it looks like I know who it is I am killing first in the bloodbath."

Should I be worried about these words; perhaps I should be, but in these Games he don't have time to waste on emotions as petty as that.

**District 12 female tribute – Age Seventeen – Bluebell Hart's point of view**

My eyes remain transfixed upon the bright flames that flicker before me. I have spent most of my time at the fire building station, as this is where I feel most at home. I place my dainty hand over the glowing flames and allow them to dance across my skin. I no longer feel the scalding sensation that flames normally bring forth. The flames almost seem to be a part of me now and this is something I will embrace with open arms.

I innocently allow my gaze to flicker across the room, as I try to find who it is I want to prey on. My attention has been drawn towards the brute of District 4, but it is easier to ensnare ones prey when they are alone. A small frown plays across my lips, as I catch sight of Theo with his District partner. Why must he always be with someone? However in my mind this just makes these games we play that much more interesting. I put the fire out before me using nothing, but the flesh of my hands which causes the trainer to look at me with a raised eyebrow. I bat my eyelashes at him, as I stand up running my hand through my silky hair.

"You think boys would like a girl who isn't afraid of a little fire," I giggle softly, as I make my way across the training hall. As I walk my feet appear to barely come into contact with the floor, almost as if I am walking on thin air. Time is beginning to run out before the real games begin and I will not waste this little precious time that is left waiting around. If I want to have my fun, I will have to go about creating it by my own measures.

As I walk closer with each dainty step that I take, I can see that Vencitiy and Theo are arguing over something petty. Several ways of how I can get the girl to vanish from my sight run rampant across my mind, but it is the words that spill from Theo's lips that drive her off.

"Why don't you go play with you lower District scum of a toy," He scowls; Vencitiy allows a few choice words to spill from her lips, but I don't bother to register them. My wide blue eyes remained locked on the boy before me. One look at him and I can easily tell he will be one of more interesting games. Vencitiy storms past me in the opposite direction and this is when I pounce on my prey. This is where I will play up my innocent role and make him cling onto every word that slips free from my sweet lips.

I carefully place a foot in front of the other, which causes me to trip over my own form. Accidental this would seem to the many eyes around me, but only I know this is just the stepping stone to the plans that have begun to work themselves out, within the darkest depths of my mind. I close my eyes tightly, as I allow myself to fall straight into the solid form of Theo. With my face hidden within his chest do I allow a small smirk to tug at my lips; how seemingly simple does all of this come to me. I wouldn't change who it is I have become for anything the world could possibly offer me.

I glance up at him and quickly his scowl dissolves back into his features. My eyes have this effect on people from time to time; they are a captivating mechanism which I use to my advantage. "Sorry, I'm just a little on the clumsy side," I smile softly, but I make no effort to remove myself from his grasp.

"I suppose I can forgive a pretty girl like yourself," He helps me stand up on my own and by the way he stands I can easily see that he believes he is one that has a way with the female persuasion. I almost want to roll my eyes at this sight, as if only he knew that I am not the type to be swayed by any charming words a boy could possibly throw my way.

I throw my hair over my shoulder, allowing my lush blonde hair to cascade is soft waves down my back. I force a small giggle to swarm the air around us, as a response to his words. "You think I'm pretty?" I ask, as I look up at him; my entire form oozing innocence.

"I do, but you lose a few points for being from lowly District 12," He shrugs his shoulders lightly, which causes me to clench my fists at my side. I may only be from lowly District 12, as he puts it, but I am capable of much more twisted games then he will ever be able to comprehend.

"Well I'm sure I can make up for the lost points in another way; the names Bluebell if you were wondering," I lightly place my hand on his arm, as I keep my eyes steady with his. This is almost too easy, as he is falling head first into my trap. My plan is simple; lull him into a false sense of security, then have him leave the rest of the careers for me. After that I will allow the events of the Games to play out on their own, before I burn him into nothing but ash. I bite my lip to stop the cruel smile from gracing my lips at the thought of his flesh melting of his bones by the fires created by my own delicate hands.

"I'm Theo, but I'm sure you already knew that," The way he speaks easily proves just how confident this boy really is; as if he really believes he stands a chance of being crowned victor. If only he knew I had other plans for him. I did not volunteer to have my life swept away from me, but I am here by my choice to win. There is nothing left for me back in gloomy District 12 and it is here in this year's arena that I will reach my full potential.

"Of course, everyone knows the name of this year's leader of the career pack," A small dainty smile remains in place upon my lips, as these words freely flow from my lips.

My mind begins to twist and turn into the ways this conversation could be headed. I just need him to see me as anything, but a threat. Once I have achieved that I will put everything else into play. I will soon feed of the screams of my fellow tributes; their anguish will give me the strength to rise from the ashes.

I have created fires before, but those will all pale in comparison to the whirlwinds of flames I will soon create.

**I got this chapter posted allot sooner than I thought I would ;D**

**I'm just that excited to get to the Games ;)**

**Now make sure you all review ^^**

**Now onto the sponsor question!**

**Who tells Katniss to focus on him during the interview to help her feel more comfortable? **

**The first to answer correctly will receive six sponsor points and the next three to answer correctly will receive four sponsor points!**


	20. I Will Prove I Am More: Training Part 4

**The answer to my previous trivia question was: Cinna. **

**The receivers of those points were i-am-foxface who answered first and got six sponsor points. The following three each received four sponsor points: Munamana, KingWolf111 and Fleur-WickedWitchOfBeauxbatons.**

**And here is the final instalment of training! The next chapter shall be focusing on the training scores.**

**District 1 male tribute – Age seventeen – Dapar Radsha's point of view**

The paling light of the setting sun streams through the window, shattering against the floor causing a rippling effect to spread across the finely carpeted floor. I lay sprawled out on my bed allowing myself to almost sink into the silky sheets, as Foe sits cross legged on a chair across the room. I watch absentmindedly as she flips a knife that she had stolen from the training hall earlier today through her fingers, with no regard for how close the flawless steel comes to coming into contact with her skin.

We had decided that we were through with training and that we are both ready to face our private sessions tomorrow. I am a career and am confident in what it is I must prove to the Gamemakers tomorrow afternoon. I will stand tall and proud and display exactly what it is I am capable of doing. Foe appears lost in thought and in a way so am I. We have nothing more than a few days until the moment we have all been impatiently awaiting finally creeps forward. There will be no living in a world of ignorance hoping the moment the gong sounds will never come, but that will soon become our reality.

I am not afraid for that moment, even if I should be at least in the slightest. I have a strong alliance with Foe and we have no plans to be blindsided by our fellow careers who have done nothing more than tear at each other's throats from the moment we arrived. It's petty really to be already turning against those who could possibly propel you further to the top, but with them all fighting each other they will be paying less attention to taking me out of the Games.

I reach into my pocket and remove the small ambiguous blue spiral that Hydra gave me during my goodbyes. Both her and her brother Argent think I stand a chance of returning home, but the difference between them and myself is I _know_ I stand a chance of emerging victor. I run my fingertips lightly across the smooth surface of my token, as I sit up to look at Foe who is still absentmindedly flipping her knife between her slender fingers. We are the only careers who appear to get along on any level, but neither of us can deny the fact that we are still playing against each other. It doesn't matter if I have taken a slight interest in her, she must die if I am to win.

"When do you think we should break off from the rest of the careers?" I ask her shattering the silence that had slowly begun to creep its way across the length of the room. My plan from the start has always been to silence the rest of our careers during the cover of nightfall, but both Foe and I know it may not be as easy as it seems.

"As soon as we possibly can; I do not want to stick around with those idiots for that long," She answers back coolly. I know Foe looks upon our fellow careers with disdain, but in reality they have given her good reason to. They are nothing, but idiots full of hot air as Foe put it the other day and really are not worth our time. We will use them to survive the bloodbath then slip away under the cover the arena will hopefully offer us.

I chuckle softly at her words and she raises an eyebrow in response, "I don't understand what it is so funny, they really are nothing more than a bunch of idiots that must have been dropped on their heads at birth."

I roll my eyes playfully as I speak, "You really think that badly of them huh?"

"Damn right I do; fighting amongst each other since the moment we all arrived. It's pathetic really when you think about it," I nod once, as I mull over her words. In retrospect she really does have a point; there will be plenty of time for us to destroy each other in the arena, why waste the energy doing so already? During my time here I haven't made the efforts to make any enemies, but I haven't gone out of my way to get too close to anyone. Even I know even the slightest of attraction towards anyone can turn into something deadly in the arena. Foe and I have already planned out what we are to do; once we reach the final two we will fight it out. We can't both win that much is clear, but we know we stand a better chance of reaching the top together than on our own.

I stretch out my arms lightly, as if I am reaching towards something only I can pay witness to and in a way I am. I am reaching towards my survival; that chance to remain breathing against all the odds. Foe suddenly stands up with a bored expression dancing across her features. "I'm bored fix it," She almost commands and my mind instantly falls to ways we could bring entertainment forth. Being a male my mind first falls to less appropriate ways, but I quickly push those thoughts away knowing Foe would want nothing to do with that kind of fun.

"We could go harass someone from the lower Districts?" I suggest with a slight shrug of my shoulders. In this moment I don't see the harm in perhaps earning myself one enemy. Besides I have not felt a lick of fear towards those that belong to the Districts below us.

A mischievous grin dances across Foe's lips, as her eyes flash in a way that is screaming for trouble, "No, I know someone better that we can harass." She stands up and quickly exits my room expecting me to follow, which I do. I quicken my pace so I fall into stride next to her. "Who exactly do you have in mind?" I ask curiously.

"Our damned escort," A grin spreads across my own lips at these words, as I never did exactly like our escort who has the outer appearance of a burnt ostrich. Waking up to the sound of her screeching voice that resembles a banshee is something I wouldn't wish upon my enemies. "What do you have in mind?" I ask Foe, growing more curious about the plans that must be running rampant across her mind.

"You'll just have to wait and see," She takes confident steps forward as she speaks. She has me intrigued this much his obvious; trouble was something that I never did shy away from. "Distract her for a moment," Foe slips around a corner and disappears down a hallway. I stand in place for a moment still at a lost at what scheme she is plotting in this moment. I run my hand through my hair and make my way towards our chirpy escort.

"Dolly do you think I could ask you a question," I keep my charming smile in place, as she turns around to face me with a smile of her own. Her teeth are almost blinding, as they have been whitened to an inhuman degree. My eyes stay transfixed on their pearly surface and I swear I can almost see my reflection in them. "Yes, Dapar what is it?" I scratch my head trying to think of anything, but then my eyes catch sight of Foe behind our escort. She places a finger over her lips; signalling for me to keep her presence unknown.

"I was wondering if you could give me a few pointers for the interviews that are in a few days; you know I have to make a good impression," My eyes keep flickering towards Foe, who is busying herself with a thin piece of what appears to be rope. "Well dear you just have to be yourself; actually scratch that you need to be someone the audience will love and that isn't always necessarily yourself-" She opens her mouth to add to her speech, but this is when she notices my gaze continuously flickering to the space behind her.

"What is it you keep looking at?" The moment she goes to turn around is when Foe allows her plan to unfold. She throws the piece of rope with a deadly accuracy so the end of it lands in Dolly's hair. The end holds onto some sticky substance so when Foe tugs her brightly colored orange wig flies clear off her head. Her horrendous screeches fill the room, as she places her hands over her now revealed scalp. I cannot stop the burst of laughter that escapes my lips at this amusing sight. "Damn I didn't think you could get any more hideous Dolly," Foe says with a smirk of amusement tugging at her lips.

In a moment Foe and I are running blindly down the hallway, as Dolly's threatening screams chase after our forms. "That was a brilliant," I say to Foe between the laughter that continues to flow freely from my lips. She grins, obviously content with the little stunt she has pulled.

We are the only careers who have attempted to get along during our stay here. We have made our alliance; made our plan to make it to the final two alongside each other. If only I knew just how badly she was playing me in this moment. If only I wasn't so blind, but my sight would remain clouded as it is now.

**District 4 male tribute – Age eighteen – Theo Macdonald's point of view**

A growl full of a powerful hunger that yearns for the spilling of blood forces its self from my lips the moment my axe hurls through the air. It tears away at the very fabrics of the once still air, as the flawless steel glimmers menacingly in the bright lighting. My shot was perfect; to hurl terror towards those beneath me was my intentions. My axe soars past the annoyance from District Eleven just narrowly missing the soft flesh of his neck. How dare he believe he can walk these hallways doing as he pleases; how dare he believe he can trip me up and make me look like a fool in front of those who I have been forced to label with the title of competition.

My veins burn with a red hot anger at the memory of that little pest tripping me up using some form of a roped trap; causing me to tumble towards the floor with everyone's eyes trained on my form. A cruel smile tugs at my lips as the boy from District Eleven allows a faint scream to escape his lips, the moment his eyes catch sight of my axe hurdling towards him. He drops to the floor; in my opinion the rightful place he belongs. People such as him are not worth the dirt beneath my boots; he is the type of person that shall not be missed once I am sure he perishes among the others who will surely lose their lives during the bloodbath.

The boy whose name I have not bothered to learn sends a glare in my direction, but I just shrug it off. I will willingly place a target upon my back; this way the competition will come to me, their intentions on being taking my life. This way I won't have to put in the extra effort to hunt them down relentlessly; however the thought of the hunt calls me forward like some sick Siren's song. The adrenaline that will course through my veins like wildfire is inviting. Many would not hold onto the same views as myself, but that is what separates me from the rest. It is clear I am the one to be feared in these wicked games; I am the one who will tear their hearts out and burn the pieces.

I turn my attention back towards the display of axes set out before me. Only a few remain in the training hall, as most have dispersed for the remainder of the day. The only ones who remain are the ones who seek out the skills they will need to survive with much desire. They should learn by now no amount of feeble skills will aid them now. It is too late for them, as I already know I will do anything to win. The reasons as to why I volunteered may seem foolish to many, but to me it all comes down to pride. With the title of victor thrust upon me I will no longer appear as a fool. I will be respected once I prove myself to this world we call Panem.

This undying need to prove myself is something most won't be able to make sense of. Most days I try to work it out for myself, but always end up coming to a dead end. Why is it that I seek the need to prove myself? What is it exactly that I need to prove? I shrug these thoughts off and will them back into the plummets of my mind where they rightfully belong. My fingertips graze across the steely edge of an axe; my intentions on being to train for the remainder of the day. Today is the final day we will have the opportunity to better our skills; the final day I will be able to display exactly what it is I am capable of.

With my mind running away from me, going over every skill that I have learned over the years I feel a dainty hand place itself upon my shoulder. I turn around and find myself looking into the wide crystal blue eyes that could only belong to Bluebell. She appears much like a porcelain doll in my eyes; giving off the radiance that she may break if I were to touch her. Her looks are the one aspect about her that draw me towards her and left me hooked. I know these aspects are clouding my judgment, but I never was one to turn a blind eye to a pretty girl who shows some slight interest. "Still showing off I see," She giggles softly, as she tosses her hair over her shoulder causing it to spiral down her shoulders in soft cascades.

Bluebell and I have spent a fair amount of time together over the last few days; there is a buzzing attraction between us, but I know it is nothing more than on a physical level. I refuse to walk the barren wasteland that is the field of emotions, but if some fun is to present itself to me I am more than willing to play. "It's called training actually; I'm just proving how skilled I am so yes I suppose you could say I'm showing off," A small smirk tugs at my lips as I speak. She places her soft slender fingers over my hand and forces me to put down the axe that was once held between my clutches.

"Enough training; let's go do something fun," Bluebell almost purrs. She lightly tugs on my hand and leads me out of the training hall. Perhaps it is foolish that I am following her blindly, but her idea of fun intrigues me slightly. She walks a little distance ahead of me and allows her hips to sway back and forth with each step she takes. I find my eyes following the gentle sway of her hips; almost getting lost in the alluring movements her body is able to make.

She turns around to face me with a small smirk dancing across her dainty features. This is the first moment I allow myself to take in my surroundings; I now find myself in a seemingly deserted hallway where only myself and Bluebell are present. She motions for me to come closer with a gentle motion of her slender fingertips and I obey without a second thought. The moment I am within arm's length she places her hands firmly upon my chest and pushes me up against the wall. I look down at her small form watching her closely; gauging her every motion.

"Let me make this simple for you Theo; you find me attractive and I find you appealing," As she speaks she snakes her hand around the back of my neck and runs her fingertips across my flesh in a manner that causes soft shivers to spiral down my spine. "Now I have a little offer to make you and I promise you it will work in both of our favour," Her tone is alluring, as she stands up on her tip toes and presses her lips against the soft flesh of my neck. I find myself unable to utter a word, but instead a soft moan slips free from my lips.

She smirks lightly against my neck at the sound of my enjoyment. "I will assume you are interested then," She murmurs against my neck. I nod once, as I place my hands upon her waist; keeping her in place. I can hear a faint voice in the back of my mind screaming at me to push her away from me and not allow myself to get tangled in her twisted web, but instead I find myself pulling her closer to my body.

She pulls back slightly and places her hand against my chest, as her other hand trails its way down my body; leaving Goosebumps in their wake. "We can continue this is my room, but only on one condition," She keeps her eyes locked on my own, but her hand continues to explore my body. "And that would be?" I ask her. Am I willing to give into her condition so I can give into the desires that snake their way through my veins? Perhaps I am, but maybe this is only because my judgment is clouded by her captivating blue eyes.

"I want you to leave the careers for me," She states simply. It takes a moment for her words to sink in, but once they do I feel as if I am seeing clearly for the first time in days. A cold laughter escapes my lips in response, which causes a frown to tug at her lips. "You want me to give up my position of power so I can join an alliance with lower District scum?" The moment these words slip free from my lips she recoils back and slaps her hand hard across my face. A string of curses escape my lips, as I hold onto my burning cheek.

"You listen here Theo; I hope you realize the mistake you have just made. Next time our paths cross will be in the arena and know this; your life is mine," She says through her teeth in a tone never have I heard grace her voice once before. With anger flushing her cheeks, she turns on her heels and disappears down the hallway.

I am now left alone trying to decipher what it is I have just paid witness to. Perhaps this girl with the glistening blue eyes isn't as innocent as I have been led to believe. My mind dawns on the fact that she may just be as willing to play games as I am.

**District 9 female tribute – Age fifteen – Astoria Delacorte's point of view**

The feeling of something being off about my presence has only grown in intensity over the last few days. Everything feels wrong, as if something has been thrown off balance. This feeling disturbs me to my very core, but there is nothing I can do in my power to shake this feeling. Perhaps it is just the Games taking their toll on me, but perhaps it is something more. I climb higher into the tree that remains perched in the middle of the training center. From this vantage point I can take in all of my surroundings; few tributes still dot the room, but many have dispersed for the remainder of the evening.

I swing my legs back and forth over the branch, as I come to the conclusion that it may already be too late to join any form of an alliance. Many tributes have already aligned themselves with each other and there may no longer be any openings for me to join. This dawning thought does not bother me as much as it should. I have made no enemies and have done my best to be friendly to those surrounding me; with no target carefully placed on my back I will be able to slip into the looming cover that the arena will hopefully offer me. During the whirlwind of chaos the bloodbath will call forth I will slip away between the cracks; hidden from those who need to see me dead to complete their journey to returning home.

My plan is simple; to outsmart my competition is what I must do. My strength and skills pale in comparison to those who have proclaimed themselves as dominate in these games we all must play a part in. To remain hidden from them is what I will do; to remain under the shrouding cover of night is the only time I will allow myself to move. If they cannot find me then they cannot take my life. Simple it may seem, but even I know the difficulties of this plan will soon present themselves the moment I step foot into the arena.

I swallow once at the daunting thought of the gong tearing through the air; symbolizing the soon to be death of twenty three young men and woman. I am the mayors daughter I lived the simple life; I was never built to fight for my survival. I have never had to fight for anything until now, but now I have to fight for the greatest prize; my life. Never before have I realized that I took everything that presented itself before me for granted. Now that everything that I once held dear has been swept away from me do I realize just how lucky I once was. This is how the Capitol keeps complete control over us; by even posing a threat to those of us who have been blinded by the propaganda the Capitol forces us to pay witness to.

I allow my eyes to fall close, as I lean against the bark of the tree. I bring my fingertips up towards my neck and run them across the small heart shaped locket I have worn for as long as I can remember. It was a gift from my parents when I was young and in a way it has become a part of me. It is now the only piece of home that I truly have left; a constant reminder of what it is I have to make it back to. Promises slipped free from my lips during my goodbyes; promises to try, promises to win. Is it sick that I allowed those promises to flow freely from my lips? There will be no guarantee that I can keep these promises, but that will not stop me from trying.

My mind begins to blur around the edges, as a slumber tinged state threatens to pull me under beneath its icy hold. Here trapped in my dreams is a place I should fear; if only I was able to remember what it was I saw. The images before me dance across my plane of sight in sweet wisps of white. They twist and bend until I am thrust into a memory that has been buried away beneath my surface for many years. This is the memory that gave birth to the presence of Nika; the day she first made her presence known to the world, but remained unknown to myself.

I look through the clear eyes of my six year old form and this is when I still was bathed in the innocence childhood held. I sat in the soft green grass that reached up to caress my skin; my slender fingers went about plucking sweet smelling daises clean from the earth. My mind was elsewhere in this state of time; lost in a world of fairy tales. I hummed softly to the sweet lullaby my mother would use to lull me into a state of sleep. I didn't notice them at first; the towering older students who watched me with wide eyes, their intentions on being harassing those beneath them. I had merely seen them roam the school halls before, but people never needed a specific reason to inflict pain upon people as they saw fit.

"What do we have here fresh meat?" The eldest boy of the group said in a manner that snatched up my attention. I remained silent; not uttering a word, as the older boy closely followed by his friends surrounded me. I had seen them push around some of my fellow younger students before and had been sure not to cross paths with them before, but fate had its own ideas. Perhaps this moment had been played out by fate in the beginning; to give the world a hint to the insanity within. "What do you have nothing to say?" A girl with straggly blonde hair only a few years older than myself said, as she snatched the small bundle of flowers from my clutches. With a cruel smile tugging at her lips she threw them back towards the earth, crushing them beneath her feet.

I looked up with her with wide dark eyes; confusion flickering across my features, "What did the flowers ever do to you?" The girl snorted in response and turned to face her friends, but in the blink of an eye she turned back around shoving me to the ground. Here with my face buried in the dirt is where that piece of my mind snapped; here is where Nika was born. The older students all laughed in chorus, unaware to the growing dark presence within their midst. This is where my mind ran away from me, as Nika slowly took over. This is where she wanted to be; to be in control of the vessel that was my body. In this moment everything went blank, but it is what I saw once Nika crawled back to the darkest depths of my mind that would haunt me for the rest of my days.

My eyes snapped open with the images of my crimson strained hands imprinted upon my vision. I shake my head wildly trying to push these sick and twisted images away. I pull my knees up to my chest; holding them close to my body. A living nightmare is what I blindly walk through, but in time I would walk these dark lands with my eyes wide open.

**District 10 female tribute – Age sixteen – Cassie Hughes point of view **

I place my hand firmly against the cool glass of the mirror set out on the wall before me. I knew the moment my name was drawn out of that wretched reaping bowl they would change me; try to change me into someone in their image. I barely recognize this girl looking back at me; she is nothing more than a stranger to me. My features that once made me who I was have been altered, but I know this is all just a part of the journey I must partake in until I can go against the odds to emerge victor. I blink once almost hoping that once I reopen my eyes I will be me again. Staring back at me in the glassy surface is still this girl created by my stylists.

I trace the now smooth curve of my lips that have been glossed over to hide the cracks that once ran deep across them in criss-cross patterns. My lips are no longer my own, but the words that spill from them are still mine and mine alone. That is one aspect the Capitol will never be able to take away from me; one aspect that I will never allow them to change. I will hold true to my values, perhaps they are the one thing that will allow me to see clearly so I may return home. I run my hand through my hair which is now sleek and holds a softness it never has once before.

"So different," I murmur for my ears alone to hear. A frown plays across my lips, as the light across my deep chocolate brown eyes waver slightly. Here alone in my room is where I allow all the emotions that threaten to crash down around me to broil to my surface. The title of leader has been thrust upon me, but will I be able to hold up to that name? I need a release; a way to expel these emotions from my very being. Should I cry? Should I scream? Should I laugh? The more thoughts that roll in and out of my mind the more the pace of my breathing begins to pick up. Stress is a curse I must bare; a curse I never knew how to handle.

I place my hands lightly over my ears in an attempt to block out everything. I sit down on the floor cross legged; here in the daunting darkening light does the stress of this situation I have been unwillingly thrown into threatens to push me over the edge. My breathing becomes sharp and shallow, as I attempt to take in as much air my lungs can possibly hold. Thoughts bombard my mind, as if they are at war; a battle that would never appear that I could emerge victorious from. Thoughts induced by my stress tinged state scream at me that I have no chance for survival. I have seen those who stand the chance of being bestowed with the honor of victor; how could I overcome them?

I lay down on the floor, as a full blown panic attack threatens to destroy me. I try to see through the fog to ways I have overcome this state before, but in this moment they are at a lost to me. I rub my temples softly, as the stress continues to intertwine its way through my veins. What if I end up running my alliance into the ground? What if it is my foolish decisions that in the long run end up being the reason we lose our lives? These thoughts unsettle me to my very core. I know my alliance must die if I want to return home, but I don't want to be the sole reason to their downfall. If I cannot return home my hope is that one of them reaches the top, but in my current state the only thought that clouds my mind is that none of us will make it.

I breathe out slowly; willing my breathing to slow down. My vision has begun to blur around the edges, but this is not the first time I have endured this state. This is my fatal flaw; the one that will threaten to tear me down until there is nothing left. What was there really to begin with? Some girl created by the Capitol with a foolish fantasy of being crowed the victor of these twisted games? No, it is not a fantasy, but my will to survive. I sit up slowly, as my breathing has begun to return to its normal pace. My mind slowly begins to fall towards a technique Jack showed me many years ago that always helped me calm down and return back to my senses. I would slowly count backwards from five and with each number that slipped free from my grasps I would conjure up a thought or memory that held a purpose to my life.

Five; the feel of the wind whipping through my hair, as human become one with the beast. Riding atop the powerful creature that carries the title of horse is the one place where my mind is free from its bonds. It is that one place where I truly feel like myself, as it was always meant to be. I can almost smell the sweet aromas of hay drifting along the gentle breeze; I can almost hear the powerful strides of my horse's hooves against the earth below.

Four; the feeling of overcoming my greatest of fears. Bravery is something that I hold dear; something that has been a part of me since birth. To rise above the ashes is no easy task, but then again it was never meant to be. With bravery in hand I shall never fall victim to the challenges life will surely throw my way. Bravery alone will never be enough, but it is merely just the start I will need.

Three; the feeling of knowing nothing can be perfect. Perfection is something that can never be reached, but this is a thought I have come to accept. We are all meant to be broken in some unfixable way, but that is what makes us individuals. I would never be able to live up to the expectations of perfections; I would rather be myself than someone everyone surrounding me expected me to be.

Two; the thought of knowing my younger sister looks up to me. Family has always held a great importance in my life and she is one of the greatest reasons as to why I am willing to go against all the odds to return home to her. She is still full of a budding innocence; something that I do not want to see stolen away from her at such a young age. I don't want to think about the anguish she would surely feel if she was to watch me lose my life in the arena.

One; my will to make it home so I can tell Jack how I feel. You never realize exactly what you have until it has been taken away from you. I just wish it hadn't taken being reaped for me to finally dawn on the fact I have held onto the emotion of love for my best friend. I open my eyes slowly once my breathing has returned back to normal. Giving into my stress is something that frightens me, but is something I cannot turn my back to completely. I stand back up and turn my attention towards the mirror once more. They may have changed me on the outside, but I refuse to allow them to change the girl beneath my surface.

**District 11 female tribute – Age seventeen - Hadley June Chevalier's point of view**

The dull sound of chatter mixes in harmony with the sound of silverware against glass. Here in the dining hall is where all the final pieces fall together; where alliances become apparent. I watch those closest to us just how they watch us back. Eyes never remain in one place for much time before they are glazing across their surroundings once more. The eyes in many ways are the most valuable tool we can use; that is if we know how to use them to our advantage. Once they become clouded however they become useless and will act as our greatest of enemies. I glance across the table towards my only ally Kenzi; only after a few days we built some traces of trust between each other and decided an alliance would work in both of our favours.

No longer will I have to brave the arena completely alone, but however I do know I will have to win on my own. There is no lying to myself about that fact, as I know lies have a habit of coming crashing back down around us. We have already discussed our strategy; we would reach the final ten together or until the pressure became too much for us to handle then we would simply part ways. Nothing complicated would come from our alliance; just simply two people trying to go against all the odds to survive. I watch as Kenzi's eyes continuously flicker towards the table that the other careers have claimed as their own. "You know by constantly looking over at them you are only going to draw their attention," I say with a slight shrug of my shoulders. She has already run into a few problems with them and I know by aligning myself with her I will gain just as much as a target as she has.

"So what if I do?" I sigh quietly in response, as I do not want to pay witness to yet another confrontation. I place my elbows on the table and rest my head in my hands. "You are being rather difficult you know," I state simply; unable to hold back my thoughts on the situation. I have always been this way for as long as I can remember; I never was one to hold back with my words. My thoughts would work their way free from my lips against my own will, but to tell the world as how I see it is just what seems right to me. Nobody is perfect which is why people lie. We lie to make things better than they are, but what good does lying do in the long run? All it does it run people deep into the ground; never to be heard from again.

A faint frown tugs at her lips as she speaks, "It's not my fault Morgan goes out of his way to get under my skin." This is when a single thought dawns on me. The careers have displayed how violent they may be, but how would they react if the remainder of us banded together if only for a single moment? I stand up and Kenzi watches me curiously for a moment. No, I don't know if what I am trying to prove will work and in the end I may just end up looking the part of a fool. I walk to the center of the room where I grab a hold of a table and drag it until it connects with another table where a few other tributes sit. They too eye me curiously, but soon a few others realize what it is I am doing. In a few moments a small circle of tables has been created where most of us tributes from the lower Districts sit.

"I don't exactly understand what it is you are doing," Kenzi says, as she takes a seat next to me. If only she could see what it is we are displaying not only to the careers who have labelled us as nothing more than wasted bodies whose time is running out, but to the Capitol as well. No, we don't all get along, but we were never meant to. However here joined in this feeble circle we will prove that we are not out for the count quite yet. My eyes fall to the careers now who do nothing but laugh at this sight. My jaw clenches at this sight, as I have had it with them thinking they can walk all over us and get away with it. I want to win, but if I can't I want anyone but a career to achieve the title of victor. It is not my temper that is getting the best of me in this moment, but my curse to speak my mind.

"You really think this is that funny? You are fools to believe none of us pose a threat to you. While your alliance crumples we each have our own that stands strong. Don't count us out yet, but you might want to watch your backs otherwise next time you check there might be a knife in it," I speak calmly towards the careers, but the room has fallen silent. Before anyone can react to my words I am on my feet and out the door.

I breathe out slowly, as I make my way towards the elevator. Perhaps my little stunt was just effective enough, but what really was the true purpose to it? To prove I am not weak just because I come from District Eleven is what I was trying to display. That the District number we have been bestowed with does not determine exactly what it is we are capable of. My words had been carefully plotted out; I thought each word through before I allowed them to spill from my lips. Honesty is a quality that not many people hold dear anymore, but it is a quality I will carry with me to the grave. Honest were my words, but if they were truly effective or not I'll never know.

**And that brings training to a close! Just a few more chapters until I can get to the Games ;D**

**Now make sure you review ^^**

**Here is your sponsor question!**

**What does Katniss comment is wrong with the Capitol bow she uses during her training session?**

**The first to answer correctly will receive six sponsor points and the next three to answer correctly will receive four sponsor points!**


	21. Prime Target: Training Scores

**The answer to my previous trivia question was: The Capitol bow she used was heavier than the bow she was used to using.**

**The receivers of those points were Munamana who answered first and got six sponsor points. The following three each received four sponsor points: i-am-foxface, Fleur-WickedWitchOfBeauxbatons and KitKat2014.**

**The scores that each tribute received can be found at the end of this chapter! Now I did modify a few of the training scores to what I think is realistic :3 **

**I would watch out for those tributes that did well in their training ;)**

**District 1 female tribute – Age seventeen – Phoenix "Foe" Sterling's point of view**

A buzz of silent tension snakes its way through the hallway, as we await the moment our names are called. I flick a piece of hair out of my eyes; many would be lead to believe that being the first to present I would be nervous, but those idiots do not know me very well. I am ready for this moment; I am ready to show the Gamemakers that I am not one to be messed with. I am willing to play in their twisted games, but they will soon learn they will be playing by my rules and my rules alone. I am no puppet to be used by their twisted whims; I am here by my own lack in judgment, but I have all the means to make it back home.

A small smirk tugs at my lips at the thought of becoming this year's victor. We all dream of that moment where the announcement of this year's victor is made; the moment the sound of our own name is caught up along the blood scented breeze. I am willing to kill; a quality many here will not admit that they possess. When pushed to our limits some of us are capable of just about anything, but it is those of us who don't have to be pushed to our limits to realize what we are capable of who are the real threats. I breathe out sharply, as I am starting to grow impatient. I want the moment where I step into the gymnasium to be thrust upon me; I want the moment where I will set the bar to finally arrive.

I glance over towards Dapar who appears calm and confident on the outside, but I can only hope a slight worry tugs at his insides. I have been playing him since day one, but this fact still remains unknown to him. He really believes I have intentions of holding onto our promise of making it to the final two, but I have other plans. I will dispose of him when I see fit, but until then let the games continue to play out. Cruel it may seem to use another human being to further myself, but in my eyes my own life is more valuable. I am not here out of a death sentence; I am not here to protect anyone. I am here to prove to this world we call Panem that I am no bloodbath, I am a victor.

Dapar catches my gaze and his signature charming smile spreads its way across his lips, "You nervous at all?" I snort in response to his question. "Why the hell would I be nervous?" My voice is laced in a confidence that I know I will be able to back up. Many tributes here know how to run their mouths, but when put to the test they will come up short. This however works in my favour; the less real competition in these games the sooner I can return home.

"Well you know it's a normal emotion to feel right now I suppose," He says with a slight shrug of his shoulders. I just roll my eyes in response; not once have I felt that emotion tingeing my very being. There is nothing to be nervous about in this moment; all I need to focus on is the familiar sensation of my knives held tightly between my clutches. The quiet chatter instantly comes to a complete silence the moment the sound of heels clicking against the tiled floor tears through the air. A tall woman with long lavender hair that twists in tattered curls stands before us with her lips pursed together. "Phoenix Sterling," I growl quietly under my breath at the sound of my name. "It's Foe," I answer back coolly to the tall woman.

"Good luck," Dapar says with a slight smile. "Luck is for losers so save it for some pathetic tribute that actually needs it," I say to him over my shoulder with a small confident smirk dancing across my lips. I push the doors to the gymnasium open and instantly all eyes are drawn to my direction. There are advantages to being the first private session; the Gamemakers have not grown bored yet and being a career they must know I carry some promise. A show is what they desire and a show is exactly what they are about to get.

I lift my head up and my entire demeanor screams a deadly confidence. "No other training session will even pale in comparison to what it is you are about to see," My words have them intrigued on what it is I am capable of doing. I shall leave them hooked; leave them wanting to see more. I stride across the room straight towards the knife throwing station, my boots pounding loudly against the floor. My eyes catch sight of the knives that glimmer playfully in the light; just waiting for the moment where I shall claim them as my own. I allow my fingertips to graze over the flawless steel if only for the briefest of moments before I slip at least a dozen slender throwing knives into my belt. I pick up one blade and throw it up before I twirl around catching it easily and slip it into my boot. I pick up two more blades and make my way towards the center of the room.

I twirl the knives gracefully between my fingers, as I bring my arms up so they are above my head. "Don't think I will fall victim to your games," My voice cuts through the air sharper than any blade, as I allow my eyes to fall close. "I have some games of my own to play," The moment these words slip free from my lips I snap my eyes open and bring my arms down in one strong movement. The blades I once held between my clutches go soaring across the room and cut through the bonds that held up several punching bags in the hand to hand combat station across the room. The bags crash to the floor, as the knives continue their path until they land into the eyes of a dummy a vast distance away from my form.

The Gamemakers don't blink once, as I begin running across the room towards the hand to hand combat station. I hold my breath, as I will my body to bend so my hands come into contact with the floor. I use this momentum to flip my body over; twisting in the air until my feet solidly land back on the floor. I perform this same motion once again, but this time as I am suspended in the air I remove the knife from my boot and allow it to fly free from my grasps. It lands dead center in a target across the room, but I do not stop to take in my perfectly clean shot.

This is when I am in my element; this is when I feel as if no one could possibly touch me. This is when a girl becomes one with her knives. As I reach the hand to hand combat station I begin twisting and turning my body, as if I was a part of a deadly dance. I display that even in close range I will easily be able to bring down anyone who dares to even touch me. One by one I remove the knives from my belt and throw them with a deadly accuracy to a variety of targets in the room; the only aspect that really matters is that each one hits dead center. With a set of knives in my possession no one will ever be safe.

I flick my last knife through my fingers, coming dangerously close to allowing my blade to feed off of my own flesh. "This is not over confidence that you are paying witness to," I throw my final knife so it soars over a rack of swords, just scrapping against their pointed steel causing sparks to dance through the air, before my knife comes into contact with the soft neck of a dummy. "Just a girl who knows exactly what it is she is doing," Before the Gamemakers can speak I am striding across the room towards the door. I walk through the pooling crimson of fake blood that spills onto the floor from one of my shots; only a few more days and this will be real. If only that moment could come sooner.

**District 2 male tribute – Age seventeen – Morgan Scott's point of view**

I cross my arms firmly across my chest, with my features drawn out in a look of boredom. I could care less about proving myself to the Gamemakers; I could care less about my score even if it could aid or hinder me in the long run. The only thing that I need is a wickedly sharp blade; with a sword held between my clutches I will behead those who stand in my way. I glance over at Kenzi who is continuously bouncing up and down on her heels; she is one of the many tributes here who I believe the only place in this world they hold is being the dirt beneath my boots. An annoyance she has been since the moment she rejected my proposal of an alliance; let her run herself into the ground, it won't bother me in the slightest.

"What are you looking at?" Kenzi says with a raised eyebrow once she notices my gaze. "I haven't quite figured that out yet," I respond coolly. She clenches her fists, but remains quiet and keeps an icy glare prominent upon her features. One look in her eyes and I know she will be the one who desires to spill my blood, but she wouldn't be the only one. There is the pathetic boy from District Nine who dared to challenge me; the stupidity of these people astounds me in some cases. Almost everyone here in some way has placed a target upon their back; either by being arrogant and hot headed or by merely being stupid.

My memory floats back to the end of our last day of training and the words that spilt from the female tribute of District Elevens mouth. A faint scowl dances across my features at the thought of this memory. She really believes that someone from a lower District can overpower us; if only she realized just how wrong she was. There is a reason most careers are volunteers; there is a reason most victors are careers. Those from the lower Districts who have been bestowed with the title of victor won based on luck and luck alone.

The sound of sharp heels against the tiled floor draws everyone's attention towards the front of the hall where we all wait impatiently, with our nerves buzzing in a manner that threatens to push some over the edge. The tall woman pushes her tangled curls away from her face before she speaks, "Phoenix Sterling." Foe steps free from the line, but when she turns around to speak to her District partner she clearly wears a prominent confident smirk. "Luck is for losers so save it for some pathetic tribute that actually needs it," I roll my eyes at her words, as she disappears behind the heavy metal doors that lead towards the gymnasium.

The next few minutes seem to drag by at an unbearably slow pace. I contemplate walking off and returning to my District floor, as I really could care less about my training score, but this could be my last real chance to intimidate those I will soon have to cut down. "Kenzi Rodgers," The sharp tone of the tall woman tears through the air once more snapping me back into my reality. "Break a leg," I say to her with a hint of sarcasm dripping in my voice.

"Another comment like that and you'll be the one with a broken leg," She snaps back before she walks through the metal doors. I close my eyes for a moment and that is when I see her eyes; the one girl I loved, the one girl who destroyed my heart. Perhaps she is the real reason as to why I am so cold; perhaps I am just trying to place the blame of who I am on her. The only thing that I can take from being hurt from her is that the Capitol can no longer hurt me since I was broken to begin with.

"Morgan Scott," My eyes snap back open at the sound of my name being called out. I walk forward with a look of boredom still playing across my features. I push open the doors and pay no attention to the Gamemakers watching me intently. My size gives off the promise that I will be a tribute to watch out for, but I still don't pay the slightest attention to those who could possibly grant a high score upon me. In my opinion they don't deserve an ounce of my attention; neither of us wants to be here so why go about pretending to be civil.

I stride across the room until I reach the sword station. I don't hesitate before I grab the most lethal looking blade my eyes fall upon. My breathing remains calm and my features uncaring, as I make my way towards a group of dummies. The first strike is simple and almost graceful in a sense. My blade cleanly cuts through the air; leaving a thin, but deep slash mark branded into the dummies throat. This sight causes a frown to tug at my lips, as I know I can cause much more havoc. This is the moment of what I am capable of doing comes out to play; the moment where I give into the destruction that calls me forth.

I swing around, twirling my blade dangerously close to my own throat. I can feel the cool air my blade creates gently caress my skin, but this only causes a bubble of excitement to broil to my surface. It is when I am in this moment where my uncaring demeanor is shattered; where my true career side is brought to light. I kick out with my leg with enough strength to send the dummy it comes into contact with crashing to the ground. I swipe my sword cleanly across the ground, causing the head of the dummy to roll lazily across the floor. My feet glide across the floor in a network of complicated steps before I slash out burrowing my sword deep into the skull of a dummy. I pull my arms upwards tearing the dummy clean off of its post. In a swift moment I bring the dummy back down smashing its skull off the ground. My dull blue eyes burn with a fire that rarely graces their surface.

A deep pool of fake blood has already begun to pool around my feet and several of the Gamemakers wear unsettled expressions. As I bring my death dance to a close I whip around one last time striking my blade through the stomach of a dummy straight up to its neck. Fake blood sprays everywhere and clings to my skin desperately. I don't bother to wipe this substance from my face, as I turn to face the Gamemakers. "I don't want to be here anymore than you do, but that doesn't mean I won't be one to watch out for," My voice is daunting, but still holds an uncaring edge to it. I throw my stained sword to floor, allowing the clattering noise of metal against tile to tear through the silent air.

"Thank you, you may go," One of the Gamemakers says to me and I don't hesitate for a moment before I am out the door. It is those moments where I shatter my uncaring bored shell where I am in my most dangerous state. The mutilated dummies that I left in pieces are proof of that. I never chose to be here, but that doesn't mean I am going to go down without a fight. I may be broken, but what could the harm of a little more damage possibly do to me?

**District 4 female tribute – Age seventeen – Vencitiy Corbinette's point of view**

I tap my fingertips restlessly against the table, while the buzzing of chatter fills the dining room. I barely bother to pay attention while Theo boasts about how well his private session went. "I hope you get a less than average score," I mutter beneath my breath, which in return earns me a sharp look from my mentor Kaino. Kaino and I have not seen eye to eye from the moment I was lucky enough to get reaped. He has picked up the habit of commenting on every little mistake I make; a habit that I look upon with disdain. He may have won his games by being the most brutal of tributes, but my plan is to gracefully flit through these games without even breaking a sweat.

I brush off this look dismissively, as I continue to absentmindedly push my food around my plate. All I want in this moment is to have the scores revealed to us; to prove that I am more than just a pretty face. A wicked smile creeps across my features at the memory of the stunned Gamemakers, as they paid witness to me tearing apart each and every dummy that stood in my way; using only the simple blade of a knife. These talents that I harbour are not unknown to my fellow tributes; it was never in my intentions to keep them a secret.

Beauty and skills is what I possess; the perfect deadly combination. I grow tired of listening to Theo go on about how he is sure he will achieve the highest score and I decide to make my way towards the sitting room. I walk gracefully across the carpeted floor and sink down into the plush couch. I run my hands through my silky hair before I get the eerie feeling that I am no longer alone. I turn around to see Kaino towering in the doorway. He strides across the room and claims a chair across from me as his own. "Is there a reason as to why you are in here on your own?" He asks with a raised eyebrow.

"I was tired of listening to Theo talk about himself," I say with a slight shrug of my shoulders. I thought I talked about my own being a lot, but after meeting Theo I have learned I am not the only one who holds onto a great self-worth. "I realize he is difficult to get along with, but you need to learn to put up with him; you two are still in an alliance whether you like it you not," He says coolly. I open my mouth to say something, but I quickly close my mouth the moment Theo enters the room with his own mentor.

We all sit around the large screen until it begins to flicker with life. A perky woman with vibrant pink hair appears on screen, with a large smile dancing across her features. "Welcome Panem, tonight you have the great honor of being able to pay witness to the scores each tribute received from their private session. Each tribute is given a number from the range of one to twelve; one being despicably low while twelve on the other hand is unachievably high. You can be sure that you will want to pay attention to those tributes that scored well," Her image slowly dissolves away, as the Capitol anthem begins to play. The seal of the Capitol glows brightly for a moment before it disappears in soft ripples.

The image of the female tribute Foe from District One is displayed first, along with her training score. "A ten," I mutter beneath my breath. A frown plays across my lips at this sight; she may pose as a threat, but I will easily work around this. I don't pay as much attention as I should to the following scores. They don't intimidate me in the least; I am confident in what I can do and don't need to worry myself with what some of my other tributes may be capable of. My breath catches in my throat the moment my own image fades onto the screen. "An eight; I could have done better," A small frown tugs at my lips, but Kaino gives me a small nod of approval. No, that is not the best I could have done, but it is the average career score at least. Perhaps I will lead the other's to believe I was holding back; only giving them a quick glance to what it is I am really capable of.

"Naturally I didn't show them everything I was capable of doing; I have to keep some tricks hidden up my sleeves," A small smirk tugs at my lips, but Theo holds up his hand to motion me into silence. A scowl dances its way across my features, but all comments laced with venom that would escape my lips are cut off by the sounds of Theo cheering confidently. I turn towards the screen and see what it is that has caught everyone's attention. Theo has somehow managed to score an eleven. I cross my arms over my chest and lean back against the couch; appearing uninterested by the events swirling around me.

Let him celebrate for now, but with a score like that the other careers won't hesitate to help me with the art of stabbing him in the back when he least expects it. Theo turns to face me with a deadly smile laced across his lips, "This is why I am the leader and don't you go thinking stabbing me in the back will be that easy. I have perfected the art of sleeping with one eye open." I roll my eyes in response, but silence instantly creeps its way across the walls the moment the scores of the District Five tributes are shown.

"How the hell did he score a ten?" Theo glares at the image of the District Five boy and I find myself wondering the same question. I barely remember him from training, as he was no interest to me; then again there were very few tributes this year that held the promise of being some form of entertainment to me. "That pathetic little scums life is mine," Theo growls beneath his breath.

"Not if I get to him first," My tone holds a dangerous edge; my words are meant to unsettle Theo, to work their way beneath his skin was their intentions. He wipes around to face me with a burning fire gleaming in his eyes. I find myself narrowing my eyes in an icy glare; engaging myself in another conflict with my arrogant District partner. Our mentors instantly sense the growing tension and step between us. "Save it for the arena; how many times must we tell you two this?" Kaino says with a slight annoyance dripping in his tone.

I turn my attention back towards the screen; pretending to pay attention once more, but in reality my mind has drifted to elsewhere. I want Theo out of my way more than anything else, but I know he will be of some use to me in the beginning. Let him play out this role of the arrogant leader; I know even the strong shall fall and I will be sure to be the one who pushes him over the edge.

**District 5 male tribute – Age eighteen - Pike River's point of view**

The image of the District Four boy slowly dissolves into nothing; leaving a dreading silence intertwining its way across the walls. An eleven is a score not easily achieved, but from day one it has been clear that he would be one to watch out for. However I know if he even attempts to place a hand on Alexia I will end him before he can even understand exactly what it is happening; his head will be strewn across the grass before he can finish taking his last breath. Alexia places her hand on my knee the moment her picture is displayed. I don't hesitate before I place my hand over hers; disregarding the looks of disapproval my mentor Corinth continuously shoots my way. Let him look upon this display with disdain; he should realize it won't change anything.

We have not discussed the kiss we shared since the moment it happened, but it is clear that it is still a thought that runs rampant across both of our minds. I hold onto a red hot desire to press my lips against her once more, but with eyes trained on us at almost every moment I have not had the opportunity to experiment with the rules once more. I have accepted the fact that I shall lose my life in only a few days' time; I want to experience what it is I could possibly have before it is too late. The score of an eight is clearly shown beside Alexia's picture and a triumphant smile dances across her lips. "I guess you threw those spears better than you were letting on," I tell her, as I lightly squeeze her hand.

She glances up at me; her eyes sparkling proudly, "Well at least the other tributes know I'm not out of the count yet." If only she could see she was never out of the count; not even in the beginning. With me by her side willing to lay down my life for her at the blink of an eye, she has anyways stood a better chance of emerging victor than the rest. A deadly combination of nobility and stupidity is what my leading actions have been labelled as. At least I will be dying for a purpose and not because I never had a choice. My attention is drawn back towards the screen set out before us, as I await the moment my score is displayed for all of Panem to pay witness to. I am not expecting an above average score; I displayed what I could do and nothing more or less.

The moment my picture is displayed along with my score the entire room explodes in excitement. "How?" Alexia's mentor Lucia asks with a tone of astonishment, as her eyes remain glued to my training score. "How the hell did they think what I did was worth a ten?" I say my thoughts aloud. I think back to my private session and go over every little detail. How is it that the Gamemakers took in what I did with such interest? I can see the dummies I set up; I can see the names of each career that I painted upon their chests. I destroyed each of those dummies in the most brutal of ways I was able to. I told the Gamemakers not even the careers would stand in my way of getting Alexia home. They saw the fight that I possessed; the raw determination that I held dear.

"Don't question it; just accept that you did better than most," Alexia smiles softly before she leans up to lightly kiss my cheek. "Congratulations," She murmurs softly, as a faint blush dances across her cheeks. I can feel the eyes of our mentors glued to our forms, but I will that feeling to blur away from me so it is only her and I present in this moment. Before I can allow a single word to escape my lips Corinth grabs a hold of my arm and drags me out into the hall; leaving a confused Alexia in our wake. I tear my arm away from him the moment he slams the door closed behind us. I have just about had it with him and his constant warnings not to get myself mixed up with something deadly. He should know I hold no intentions of making it home so he should give up on playing the role of a mentor, who just wants to help his tribute to live to see another sunrise.

"You are not going to say a word for the next five minutes; you are going to bloody listen and I am going to somehow get some sense through that thick skull of yours," Corinth's tone holds an undeniable edge to it and the look in his eyes screams that he is not impressed. I cross my arms and lean back against the wall; my intentions on being only half listening to what it is he has to say.

"You really don't get it do you? This is not about stupid and petty emotions anymore; this is about you getting her out of here alive and if you want to do so you need to ditch her after the bloodbath," I look at him in disbelief the moment his sentence comes to an end. Leaving her after the bloodbath would leave her alone and venerable. I can't even begin to see how Corinth could believe this would work in her favour.

"How the bloody hell is that going to help get her out-" Corinth cuts me off before I can say anything else.

"With a training score of ten you have now become a prime target to the careers. It happens every year; those who do well in training are the first to die by the hands of the careers. They will hunt you down and with her being with you she will have just as big as a target as you do. They will find you and use her against you. In the end they will kill you both. If you want to get her out alive you need to ditch her during the bloodbath and make sure the careers know this, that way they will be after your trail and not hers," The moment his words draw to their end a silence washes over the surrounding area.

I say nothing, as I carefully mull over his words. After only a few short moments I sharply shake my head no. "I am not abandoning her," I say firmly, in a tone that hints that there will be no changing my mind once this decision has been made. "Your being an idiot; I just hope you realize that before it's too late," Corinth shakes his head lightly before he walks back into the sitting room. He is doing his job to aid us, but I refuse to go along with his plan. If I was to abandon her and something was to happen that I could have prevented if I was only there, I would never be able to live with myself.

I slowly begin to become frustrated with myself, as the realization of what I have done begins to wash over me. I whip around smashing my fist against the wall, as a string of sharp tongued curses escape my lips. I never held onto the desire to draw unwanted attention towards myself, but I have done so unwillingly. I don't even notice her walk into the hall, but the sweet sound of her voice draws me back into my reality. "Pike?" Alexia walks closer to me and without hesitation wraps her arms around me. I breathe out slowly before I loop my arms around her waist, pulling her closer to my body.

"I'm not leaving you in the arena no matter what he says," I say after a few moments of silence. Neither of us dares to break away, as we both realize this is one of the last times we will ever be able to hold onto a connection such as this.

"I'm still not okay with you dying for me," Alexia mumbles into my chest. I gently run my hand through her hair before I speak, "It is my decision to do so Alexia. I am dying for a purpose so you need to learn to accept it." We both fall silent, but remain in our sweet embrace. If only the daunting thought that I will soon have to let go of her forever would vanish; to be lost amongst the howls of the wind.

**Training Scores**

_District One_

Phoenix 'Foe' Sterling: 10

Dapar Radsha: 8

_District Two_

Kenzi Rodgers: 8

Morgan Scott: 9

_District Three_

Kallina Censura: 9

Benji Jenkins: 2

_District Four_

Vencitiy Corbinette: 8

Theo Macdonald: 11

_District Five_

Alexia Tide: 8

Pike Rivers: 10

_District Six_

Nelira Blue: 8

Collin Wrathers: 6

_District Seven_

Ayla Treleve: 5

Hadrian Xander: 5

_District Eight_

Rylinn Abrith: 7

Shohn Vekriss: 4

_District Nine_

Astoria Delacorte: 6

Nathan Ripley: 6

_District Ten_

Cassie Hughes: 7

Buck Wolfe: 8

_District Eleven_

Hadley June Chevalier: 6

Bryson Weatthers: 4

_District Twelve_

Bluebell Hart: 9

Alexander Devin Blake: 6

**Hopefully your tribute scored alright, but remember just because a tribute scores high doesn't mean they will necessarily make it far or if they scored low doesn't necessarily mean they will be one of the firsts to go ;D**

**Now here is your sponsor question!**

**At the end of Mockingjay what District did Gale move to?**

**The first to answer correctly will receive six sponsor points and the next three to answer correctly will receive four sponsor points!**


	22. Fighting For Something: The Interviews

**The answer to my previous trivia question was: District 2.**

**The receivers of those points were TheKatieKat who answered first and got six sponsor points. The following three each received four sponsor points: i-am-foxface, QueenOfSwordsAndFire and ChibiPanda315.**

**Now here are the interviews for a select few tributes :3**

**District 1 female tribute - Age seventeen - Phoenix 'Foe' Sterling's point of view**

I toss my hair back the moment the blinding lights flood the stage. The sound of the audience's cheers dance across the entire room at an ear splitting level. I keep a dangerously confident smile in place, as I am sure the cameras are observing each and every one of us; however I know some of us will receive more time on air than others and I am sure I am one of those tributes. With a training score of ten I'm confident many are placing their bets on me and they would be wise to. If they want to bet on the victor they are looking in the right direction.

"Welcome Panem to the 122nd Annual Hunger Games interviews," The silky voice of Damien Cohen intertwines its way into the air. Damien is a young man who is fairly new to the position of being the Hunger Games interviewer, but he holds onto a certain charm that leaves people hanging onto every word that slips free from his lips. "Shall we get started and meet this year's tributes?" Damien asks the audience who cheers in response. I sit up a little straighter at these words, as I know it is my name that shall be called first. I am ready to leave the audience hooked; leaving them scrambling to bet upon their next victor.

"First we have the lovely Phoenix Sterling from District One," I stand up and confidently make my way towards the stage. My tight black dress glistens when it catches the light; making it impossible for anyone to tear their eyes away from my form. My heels click loudly against the floor; I just wish they weren't so stupidly high. I swear high heels are nothing but an invention created by the male persuasion to make it impossible for females to run away. "It's Foe Sterling actually and you would do your best to remember the name," I say coolly, as I take my seat next to Damien.

Damien cracks a charming smile before he speaks, "Well doesn't someone sound a tad bit confident."

"Of course I'm confident I have all the reasons to be. I did well in my training and know exactly what it is I am doing," I flash a dangerous smile, as these words dance free from my lips.

"Well we would assume you know what it is you are doing since you did volunteer; care to tell us why you volunteered? I'm sure the audience would love to hear why; I know I would," The audience cheers wildly and already this early into my interview I can see I have them wrapped around my slender fingers.

"I'm here to prove to the idiots back home that I am more than just another bloodbath; I am here to bring home yet another victor to District One," My oozing confidence leaves the audience hanging off the edge of their seats; it is tributes such as myself that scream a deadly determination that always leave the audience wanting more than they could possibly have.

"I take it you didn't get along with very many people back home?" Damien continues to push the topic of my personal life and I can feel my patience beginning to wear thin. I can foretell that this interview will shortly fall to the topic of my family; a topic I look upon with disdain and would much rather not speak about.

"Oh, I got along with a select few, but those who lack the capacity of intelligence who got in my way," I allow my voice to trail off for the briefest of moments, as I crack my knuckles in a threatening manner. "Well Damien let's just say the art of breaking bones is something that is not new to me." The words that spill from my lips are true, as I have been in my fair share of fights. It is the stereotypical sleek blonde girls who think they can prance about the District and have everything they ever desired handed to them on a silver platter who really get under my skin. Those are the types that I usually leave lying limp within a pool of their own blood.

"Perhaps you could teach me a few moves; lord knows I could use them when someone tries to snag the latest sports jacket away from me," Damien's tone is light and causes a small ripple of laughter to work its way through the crowd.

I find myself having to bite down on my lip to keep myself from rolling my eyes in response at his attempt at being comedic. "Now if I went and did that I would be giving the other tributes who I have been forced to call competition an edge, as they will be able to see a hint at what I am able to do."

"Oh, so you don't see any of them as competition," Damien asks, as he tilts his head to the side slightly, as my words have him slightly intrigued. A tribute such as myself that holds onto such a confidence will be looked upon with disdain by their fellow tributes, as they do not want to be labelled as nothing more than the worms beneath my boots. However this concept does not faze me the slightest; in my eyes they are the weak, the ones I will crush beneath my boots so I can return home.

"No, I don't; you might as well line them up right now so I can finish them off on the spot and get this over with," The crowd bubbles with excitement, as I glance towards my fellow tributes. Many appear nervous while a few select others glare in my direction. I lock eyes with Theo the self-proclaimed leader of our alliance and I can see the small fire ripple across the surface of his eyes. "Yes, Theo you would be first in line," I say with a sly smile dancing across my features.

Both Damien and the crowd laugh in chorus, as Theo crosses his arms and keeps his features drawn out in a line of boredom, but one can easily tell that my words have worked their way beneath his skin. Perhaps it is foolish that I am stating my mind in this moment, but in my eyes it shouldn't matter, as they will all have perished within a few days' time. "Is this a slight rivalry I'm picking up on?" Damien questions and I simply shake my head in response. "No, not exactly; we are in an alliance, but I'm just not afraid of him as several others in these games appear to be," I say with a slight shrug of my shoulders.

"Well, I shall be interested to see how the career alliance plays out once the games being. Now let's steer the conversation back towards you. Let's get a little more personal and talk about your family," The moment these words swirl through the air is where I have reached the edge of my patience. I have played along from the beginning of this interview, but even I have my buttons that no one should ever press and my family would be one of them.

"Why the fuck do you care about my personal life? Just put me in the arena and get on with it so I can win already," My tone holds a slight edge, but the audience appears to enjoy my twinge of hostility that rings through the air, sharper than any blade. I never did fully understand why the Capitol insisted on dragging out these events; if I could have it my way the games would have already started and been finished with days ago. There would be none of this being forced to dress up and having to play the role of someone likable. Everything would be merely based off the skills we possessed and would have little to do with how we appeared on the surface.

Damien looks at me with soft ripples of amusement playing across his features, "And there is that confidence of yours again."

"Look at it this way; I scored well in training the highest female score, I have an alliance made up of the stronger tributes, I am sure the people in the audience will be betting on me which will lead to sponsors so don't you think I have all the reasons to be confident?" I count each of these points off on my slender fingers; I know in this moment I am playing out my role perfectly. Dangerously confident is my very essence; something that I have no intentions of letting go.

"Well I can honestly say if I could place a wager on any tribute it would be you, but who out there is going to be placing their bets on this fine young lady?" Damien directs his question towards the audience who in response many of them are on their feet cheering loudly to the point the walls vibrates with excitement. The audience is worked up to the point where this will work as a disadvantage to my District partner whose interview shall follow my own. To top my own interview will be an unachievable task, but this is what I had intended to do.

Damien opens his mouth to direct another question to my form, but the sound of the buzzer cuts him short. "Sadly that is all the time we have for the enticing Foe Sterling who I have been sure to remember the name of; best of luck to you in the arena and I hope I may have the pleasure of speaking with you again."

"Don't worry you will once I have been crowned victor," I stand up to the sounds of the audience cheers, as I make my way back towards my seat. "Next to the stage we have Dapar Radsha!" Dapar makes his way to the stage with the cheers of the audience continuously bouncing off the walls.

"Looks like I'm going to have to turn up the charm to top my partner's interview, but that really shouldn't be a problem," The moment Dapar begins to speak I turn off the world surrounding me. I find myself wondering if Ace is watching the interviews play out back home. I find myself wondering if he really believes I can back up my confidence. We have been partners in crime for as long as I can remember and I don't intend on making him live out the rest of his days in our dreadful District without me. No, I am not fighting for a greater purpose, but my own will to live is purpose enough.

**District 3 female tribute – Age sixteen – Kallina "Kalli" Censura's point of view**

I repeatedly clench and unclench my fists, as the interviews slowly begin to play out. I breath out slowly, as I listen to the careers discuss just how confident they are. If they could only see that these games won't be as easy as they think they will be; not if I can help it. The moment the uncaring boy of District Two takes the stage I bite my lip hard, as he is the career whose crimson blood I want stained across my flesh. It was the boy from District Two a few years ago that claimed my sister's life during her games and I would have my revenge upon him. Training scores mean nothing in my eyes even if I was able to achieve an above average score for a girl only from District Three. It is the fire that licks away at our insides and the steely determination to destroy lives that will determine who has what it takes to claim the title of victor as their own.

"I was tempted not even to attend my training session; you see Damien I really could care less about my score and overall I could care less about being a part of this year's games," Morgan's tone is uncaring and his features are drawn out in a look of boredom. He plays this role of a boy who appears to care little about his own life, but the moment I place my hands on him and bring forth a world of pain he has never felt before, he will be begging for a mercy that shall never come. Mercy holds no place in a place like the arena; I have no intentions of holding back or allowing the careers to slip free from their hold on life painlessly.

I absentmindedly smooth down the soft fabric of my short midnight blue dress. In my eyes it resembles the dark midnight sky and the way my silver jewelry and shoes glisten in the light give them the effect that they are nothing more than the stars that would be strewn across the midnight canvas. "Sure there have been plenty of victors from my District before me, but if I don't follow in their footsteps who will be there to really care?" Morgan's comment causes a soft anger to intertwine its way through my veins, as one of their victors is the monstrous boy that destroyed my sister's life.

My mind lingers along its depth until the sound of the buzzer drags me head first back into my reality. "That is all the time we have for Morgan Scott, but it looks like the crowd took some interest in your interview." Damien's voice is drowned out by the thunderous roars of the crowd; how they eat up every word that slips free from the career's lips. In my eyes it is utterly disgusting and despicable. The Capitol would never fathom the idea of making their favouritism towards the careers blatantly obvious, but year after year they are looked upon as the Gods that roam the arena. Soon however they will see that even the Gods shall fall.

"Next we have Kallina Censura from District Three," The cheers that follow my name are not as loud as the careers, but the audience watches me with intrigued eyes. They must see that there is more to me beyond my surface, as I must harbour some deadly secrets that would lead up to my training score of a nine. However they would never know what it is I carried out to achieve that score. They would never know the twisted words of revenge that danced free from my lips, as my knives dug deep into the skulls of many dummies until my flesh was stained in scarlet. I take a single deep breath before I stand and as I do so my bright green eyes flash dangerously. This is the moment where I will reveal to all of Panem exactly why it is I am here.

I take step after step, but keep my features vacant of all emotions. I will remain unreadable until it is they strike that nerve that will call forth the whirlwind of my hatred. "Kallina what a captivating name that is, it just rolls off the tongue," Damien flashes me a smile, as he tries to coax me out of my icy cold shell. "How charming," I say sarcastically, as I roll my eyes. My angle my mentor helped me plan out is simple; sarcastic is how I will appear, as I play up my lust for revenge. When the audience catches sight of my burning fire they will soon learn the careers are not the only ones who can hold their own in these cruel and twisted games.

"I see you are not one to be won over by charm alone; well let us carry on with the interview, as I am sure everyone is interested to learn about the girl from District Three who managed to pull of a nine in training." I remain quiet for only the briefest of moments before I speak. "I highly doubt they really care; all they care about is placing their bets on the correct tribute." Although my words are cold and my tone difficult Damien is able to see the ways he can work around the way I am portraying myself.

"I see you are not going to make this interview easy on me, but then again I have always loved a challenge. Now how about you tell us a little bit about yourself; I know you had a sister who was a tribute a few years ago and I had the pleasure of interviewing her-" I quickly cut him off before any further words about my sister can slip free from his lips. My sister is a topic I would much rather avoid, as I fear speaking freely about her will leave me venerable to enduring one of my living nightmares. I cannot allow myself to slip away between the cracks; not here and not now.

"Oh, just like how it is a pleasure to interview twenty three young men and woman who are going to be dead within a few days? I hope you realize just how sick that sounds," For a moment Damien looks taken aback by my words, but he quickly regains his composure. "That is not what I meant, but I apologize that you took it that way. How about we discuss why it is you volunteered."

"Simply for revenge," I breathe out sharply quickly, but my features slowly begin to break away from their emotionless façade. Slowly the world is able to pay witness to the lust for revenge that lurks just beneath my surface, like some sick being unseen.

"Revenge for what exactly if you don't mind me asking," Damien's job is to try and unlock the secrets each of the tributes hold onto and it is clear that this is exactly what it is he is trying to do. There must be a reason to why my revenge has been called forth this much is clear, but it is the why that people must know. People always desire to know more than they ever should, but it is the truth that many cannot handle and that will destroy them in the end.

"I will get revenge, they have to pay for what they did to my sister," In this moment it is unclear if I am directing this comment towards the Capitol or the careers, but in a sense it is directed at both. The Capitol is heartless and will willingly throw away our lives without as much as a second thought and the careers are willing to partake in their games to maintain their favouritism. It is a sick vicious cycle that they play; a cycle that I want to see shatter down upon an unsuspecting world.

"Well I can honestly say that I hope your volunteering won't end in vain, but hopefully it is not your revenge that gets the best of you," I narrow my eyes at Damien at these words. "I have no intentions of allowing my revenge to get the best of me," I snap back at him. I will use my revenge to my advantage and not allow it to hinder me. It acts like a fuel; a fuel that will propel me further until I reach the top. I clench my fist, allowing my nails to dig into the soft flesh of my knee, as the image of my sister looking up at the sky with lifeless eyes begins to seep into my line of vision. Damien reaches over to place his hand over my own, as he attempts to console me. He has seen tortured souls before, but he could never truly understand. "I truly am sorry for the loss of your sister, but you shouldn't allow yourself to die in vain because of something that happened to her."

I pull my hand back sharply, as a dark fire ripples across the surface of my eyes. "How dare you say that you are sorry; this is your job so don't act like you really care. I am going to win if it is the last thing that I do, but it won't be for myself," As I speak I turn my attention towards my fellow tributes. "And none of you are going to stand in my way," My tone drips with a toxic acid, as the buzzer announcing the end of my interview goes off; shattering the eerie silence that had begun to spread like wildfire across the building. I don't listen as Damien announces my departure and make my way towards my seat once more.

My breathing remains shallow, as my emotions have slowly gotten the best of me. I need to learn to use this to my advantage; I cannot allow this to be the fault that brings my life to a screeching halt. Revenge is a toxic emotion; one that many would have shunned away towards the darkest plummets of their mind, but I am different. I will embrace my lust for revenge with my arms spread wide and I will not stop until my revenge has been carried out. We are all here either by our own choice or by some twisted play of fate and I refuse to allow my choices to be the one thing that destroys me.

**District 4 male tribute – Age eighteen – Theo Macdonald's point of view**

I wait impatiently for the moment my name swirls through the air, that buzzes with an electrifying excitement. I am going to win this audience over; I am going to make it impossible for them to forget my name. My home District will bitterly regret the day they shunned me; to allow me to become nothing more than one who was looked upon with disdain. Once the title of victor has been bestowed upon me every girl who has ever turned me down will regret it, but then it shall be my turn to turn them down. A faint smirk plays across my lips at this thought; how a small play of fate will transform the unwanted into the wanted.

"Next we have the boy who has taken us by storm Theo Macdonald!" I stand up at the sound of my name and take confident strides towards the stage. I wave out towards the crowd, as I wink towards a few females in the audience who catch my eye. I will play off their energy and leave them captivated by each and every word that dances free from my lips. The crowd cheers loudly in response to my blatant confidence. Never before have I felt as accepted as I do in this very moment; this feeling that swirls in some form of a dance beneath my surface is something I could get used to. I raise my hands in a few swift motions signalling for the audience's cheers to increase in volume and in response they grow to an ear shattering level; the blend of cheers are mostly female, which causes a smirk to tug at my lips.

"Alright, Theo come on and take your seat; some of the females in the audience appear as if they are going to pass out due to a lack of oxygen." I sit down in my seat next to Damien and casually place my hands behind my head. Not an ounce of nervousness tugs at my insides; here beneath the spotlight is where I was meant to be. "Looks like I have the audience excited, too bad the remaining tributes will only bring them disappointment," I glance towards my fellow tributes knowing the rest of them will fall short of the bar I am about to set.

"I can see you are not holding back with your honesty there. Well I can see you are rather comfortable in the spotlight; you don't appear nervous as many tributes seem to be during their interviews," Damien says, as he continues to carry out the conversation with little effort.

"I'm fairly confident that I was born to be up on this stage if we are still being brutally honest. The audience already loves me so why should I be nervous in the first place," I say with a slight shrug of my shoulders.

"One thing for sure this year is that the careers are not lacking in the confidence department. Let me ask you a question though what makes your determination and confidence to win any different than your fellow tributes?" I carefully mull over this question for a quick moment; I know I need to choose my words carefully, if I do not want to present myself as nothing more than a fool. "You see what they possess is an over confidence; what I possess is a confidence I can back up. We can all say we have the slightest chances to win or all the determination to emerge as victor, but there is only a special kind of breed of tribute who can achieve this."

Damien raises an eyebrow, as he keep his gaze locked with my own, "What exactly do you mean by a special kind of breed?" I run my hand through my hair, as in a way I was hoping he would ask this question. "What I mean is it takes a certain kind of person to win the games and not allow the events that play out to get to them."

"And you believe you are this kind of breed?" Damien asks, as he is still trying to see exactly what it is I am getting at. "I know I am Damien; I can and will kill and I won't feel an ounce of remorse for my actions. I suppose you can look at that as an inhuman quality, but it is a quality that will help me take out those beneath me," A confident smirk remains prominent upon my features, as the reality of my words begin to settle upon the room, like a coating of flawless snow. I know what it is I must do from the moment I allowed the words I volunteer to be picked up along the salty ocean sea breeze. I did not throw myself into these games blindly, as I know a few others have done. I intend on making sure scarlet is stained upon my hands by the end of the bloodbath; to make the fact that I am one to be feared clearly known.

"So you really are willing to kill to reach the top then?" Damien asks and I simply nod once in response. "I have another question for you; Foe Sterling from District One made a comment about some of the other tributes being afraid of you what do you have to say about that?" I can't stop the light laughter that slips free from my lips; fear is something that I have been using to my advantage since day one. I made it clear during training that I am the dominant one in these games and that if you cross my path you will be choking on your own blood in the end.

"Of course some of the scum from the lower Districts are afraid of me, but then again they have all the reasons to be. I pushed a few of them around during training and my score of an eleven just simply backs up the fact that I am not one to be messed with. Before you ask if I am afraid that my actions have placed a target on my back I shall answer no. I am not worried about what any of these other tributes could possibly do; I'll cut them down either way." The audience lets a bubble of excitement ripple through the air in response to my hostility. Perhaps I am being over arrogant, but I do hold onto the certainty that I_ will_ win these games.

"I'm almost afraid for some of the other tributes that will be up against you; I defiantly wouldn't want to stand in your way. You do have a variety of diverse tributes you will be up against anyone in particular you have made a target?" Damien asks, wanting to know exactly who it is I would want to strike down first.

"The pair from District Five," I answer without hesitation, as these words are carried along a quiet growl. Their scores deem them as threats; threats I shall take out of these games in the most brutal of ways imaginable.

"Ah, yes all of the Capitol has heard rumours about those two, but is there a particular reason, as to why you have placed targets on their backs?"

"That idiot somehow scored a ten and everyone here knows about his intentions to protect his District partner. This is something that I will easily use against them. People should really learn that volunteering solely for the reason of protecting someone else's life is simply foolish," I glance over towards the District Five pair and I can see the anger flushing its way into Pike's features. It is obvious that he is not taking my threats towards the girl he wants to protect lightly, but all I want to see is his anger taking a toll on him; making him prone to making fatal mistakes.

"So you're telling me that if someone who you truly cared about was reaped you wouldn't volunteer for them?" Damien asks with a slight curiosity dripping in his tone. I simply shake my head no. "The only reason I would volunteer is so I can prove to my District that I have what it takes to bring home another victor. Also being a victor will help impress the woman back home and while we are on the subject of woman just let me say ladies I am single," As I say this I wink out at the crowd and I notice a few girls fanning themselves with their dainty hands.

Damien laughs lightly, as he runs his hand through his jet black hair, "I would have assumed a handsome young man like yourself would have a girl back home."

"Nope, I like to keep my options open; I mean even here in the Capitol I had a fellow tribute come onto me, but I turned her down," My mind instantly falls to the memory of Bluebell who basically threw herself at me in an attempt to get me to leave the careers. She wasn't able to see that at the moment my position of power means everything to me and there is no Siren's call that would ever beckon me forward to the point I would release my hold of my position as the leader of the careers.

"Oh, really and just who might this be?" The moment I open my mouth to respond to Damien's question the buzzer sounds cutting off my interview. A slight hiss off disappointment is released from the audience like stream, as I stand up. "If only we had a little bit more time; the best of luck to you in the arena Theo."

"I don't need the luck, but thanks anyways," With the cheers of the audience echoing off the walls with each step I take, I make my way back towards my seat. I played my role perfectly in my eyes and the audience soaked in every word that I allowed to leave my lips. I portrayed my over confidence and my arrogance, but I allowed them to see that it is not ill due. No lower District scum is going to stand in my way of achieving my deepest of desires. I will be a victor if it is the last thing I do and I will destroy anyone who even puts up the feeble attempt of trying to stop me.

**District 5 male tribute – Age eighteen – Pike River's point of view**

A faint anger continues to intertwine its way through my veins, as the words of the District Four boy continues to linger in the air. I have never been one to be provoked easily, but when one is to threaten Alexia then they have taken one step too far. He sees us as a threat and that is how it will remain. Within my interview I will make it clearly known that I will destroy him if he gets too close to her during the games. I have completely disregarded Corinth's idea of leaving Alexia shortly after the bloodbath; I know she wouldn't stand a chance without me at her side. It is more than her needing me to protect her physically, but it is about keeping each other's hold on reality still alive. "Next we have the first half of the pair that has many talking Alexia Tide from District Five," With the cheers of the crowd swirling through the air Alexia stands up giving my hand a quick squeeze before she takes the stage.

I find myself having to quickly shake my head to break away from the distraction the way Alexia's dress moves with her body has created. I breathe out slowly, keeping my features void of every emotion I could possibly conjure up in this moment. I don't hold a lick of fear for the way Alexia's interview will play out. She has always held onto this charm that draws people to her; like a bug to a luminous bright light. "Oh, I'm just excited to be here; the Capitol really is a fascinating place," The moment these words escape her lips I know she is playing with the audience. She won't allow them to see the fear she holds or the pain that she harbours beneath her surface; this pain that was induced by allowing myself to stand by her side until the moment I draw my last breath.

"We have heard plenty of rumours about yourself and your District partner would you care to elaborate?" The buzz of excitement that Damien's question brings forth is undeniable. Alexia glances down at her hands for a moment, as she fiddles slightly with the hem of her dress. "Pike and I have been friends for as long as I can remember; he has always been a part of my life and he always will. I never wanted him to volunteer, but Pike has never been the type to take his own welfare into account," She closes her eyes and breathes out slowly before she allows herself to continue. "Tributes are asked year after year if they are afraid and I know I am, but I'm not afraid of my own life. I'm afraid of losing the only person who means everything to me." Soft tendrils of tears snake their way down the flesh of her cheeks, as the entire audience allows soft weeping noises to be caught up along the air.

The audience holds great sympathy for Alexia by the time her interview comes to a close, but the feeling of guilt eating away at my insides continues to grow the moment my own name is called out. "Next we have the other half of District Five Pike Rivers," I stand up and make my way towards the stage, but I completely block out my surroundings. I don't want to listen to the cheers or the silence that could possibly be swirling around me like a poisonous fog. I need to focus on not completely abolishing my interview. I have never known how to hold a conversation with anyone, but Alexia. My social skills are less than desirable, but that won't stop me from claiming sponsors as my own.

"Alright, we are going to skip the formal introductions and get straight to the questions before our time runs out; now these rumours that I hinted at earlier need to be addressed. Alexia told us all how much you meant to her, but these rumours about a romance would these be true?" I clear my throat awkwardly; unsure of what words I should carefully chose. I knew this would be brought up, but I allowed myself to thrive on the illusions that these questions would go unasked.

"No, Alexia is my best friend and nothing more," I easily pick up on the disappointment that drips from the audience. I feel slightly sickened by this display, as they long to thrive off our twisted love story. What we must endure is for their entertainment and what brings this forth is our pain and anguish.

"Are you sure? There was talk about a kiss you two shared during training," Damien continues to press the topic and I already find myself realizing why I hold a slight disdain for most of the human race. They want to pry into our lives; to inspect every last aspect about tales and thoughts that should only be our own. Under the gaze of so many eyes I feel as if I am being observed beneath the bright light of a microscope; a place no secrets can be kept hidden safely tucked away.

"That kiss is really none of your business now is it?" I snap back my question. With each minute that slowly drags by I am becoming less and less desirable in the eyes of the audience. I am gruff and crude; not someone they would want to see emerge as victor. Besides it is clear to see they want to pay witness to me laying down my own life for Alexia, which is what I have planned to do all along.

"Well it is my job to get to know you a little bit, but I can see I won't get the answer I want from you. Instead let me ask what your game strategy is for the games tomorrow?" I feel a slight wave of relief wash over me once the questions steer away from the kiss Alexia and I shared.

"Simple, I get my hands on my weapon of choice, kill everyone who stands in my way then kill myself once Alexia and I reach the final two," I have never been one for complex planning; what it is I will soon carry out is simple and straight to the point.

"So you have plans on laying down your life for her?"

"They're not plans, but already pre-determined actions," I say firmly. There will be no changing my mind about this predestined path I shall willingly walk upon. "And no I am not afraid to die so don't waste your breath asking a useless question."

"You really are a brave young man; many would never be able to do what it is you seem so set on carrying out." I shrug and allow no response to dance from my lips. What else is there really for me to say in this moment?

"Let me ask you how you feel about Theo the tribute with the highest training score threatening not only you, but Alexia as well." I clench my fist at this question, as how I feel about this threat must be obvious to everyone's eyes who are transfixed on my form.

"Let him try and lay a hand on her and see what happens," I allow these words to escape along the harsh tones of a growl. My anger only grows in waves until the moment it is pounding across my skull. I stand up quickly and avert my attention towards Theo. "You even try to touch her and I will snap your neck, as if it was never more than a twig beneath my boot. This threat goes for all of you; if you know what's best for you you'll find another way to die instead of being foolish enough to cross our path."

The room is silent, as Damien places his hand on my shoulder, forcing me to once again take my seat. "That was quite the display of violence; I suppose your uncommon training score of a ten was not ill due." I shake my head no at his words; falling into silence once more. That display was the minimal amount of violence I am able to poses. I don't care for most conflict, but there are those few rare cases that if you say or do the right thing I will act upon my more primal instincts.

"You really are willing to give up everything for her aren't you?" I remain in my shell of silence for a few more moments before I allow the moment where it is shattered to creep forward. I pull apart this question piece by piece, but to the world I appear as if I have nothing to say. I am already sacrificing everything I possibly could; why can't they already see that?

"I am giving her my life so don't you think you already know the answer to that question?" I say after a few more moments. "I see, I suppose all I can say is the best of luck to the both of you." Once Damien's sentence comes to a close the buzzer goes off bringing my interview to its end. Without hesitation I leave the stage and once again take my seat next to Alexia who clearly wears look of pain in the reflection of her eyes. If only she could understand why I am doing this, but I know she never will. If only I could see her side to this sick tale that we are both a part of. I can't see that if my plan runs smoothly that she will have to go on living with my blood stained across her flesh in a way. She won't be directly what brings forth my last breath, but she is the reason.

My decisions would not lead one to believe that I am the smartest tribute present, but that does not mean I am helpless. The mind is a tool that can both help and hinder us; depending on how it is used. In my case it will only hinder me, as my thoughts are something I will continuously try to keep turned off. I don't want to think about drawing my last breath; I don't want to think about Alexia clinging onto my stone cold body, desperately crying for me to open my eyes. I can't live in a world of illusions no matter how hard I try.

**District 6 male tribute – Age seventeen – Collin Wrather's point of view**

I have to blink repeatedly the moment the blinding lights swarm in on me. I nearly trip, as I make my way up the stage and stumble into my seat. Coordination has never once been something that came naturally to me. If I could I would blame it on genetics, but my mother does not walk as if she has three left feet. "Well Collin seems like you have two feet," Damien laughs lightly, trying to start off my interview smoothly.

"Actually the expression is three left feet; I think anyways," I scratch my head, as I think this over. To the rest of the world I must appear deep in thought, as Damien has to wave his hand in front of my face to gain a hold of my attention once more. "So how does this work exactly; is it just like twenty questions?" I ask mostly out of curiosity. I have seen the interview before, but actually being a part of them does not even pale in comparison to watching them back in District Six within the safety of my home. Here I am exposed and venerable for the entire world to see, but this fact does not faze me the slightest.

"I'm not sure what that is; must be some game you District kids play, but yes I shall be asking you a few questions so the audience here can get to know you a little bit better. So, you've been best friends with Nel for a while; what's your personal opinion on her?"

"Nel? Oh, she's amazing! The best person ever! I'd marry her if it wasn't considered in- ins... What's that word for romance between siblings? Insects?"

"I believe the word you're looking for is 'incest'."

"Yeah, that's what I meant. Insects." I look at Damien with my signature smile in place, but my eyes hold onto the seriousness that I am using the correct terms. Damien shakes his head realizing it will be futile to try and correct my mistake. Fading away in the background I hear Nel snapping at another tribute to shut his mouth before she permanently silences him. She never took negative comments that were directed towards me lightly; she would always stand up for me against all the odds.

"Collin do you ever stop smiling? Every time someone sees you around whether it's in the dining hall or during training you always seem to have this signature smile in place."

"Am I always smiling? I never really noticed," I try to wipe the smile clean from my lips, but the moment I try to do so I begin to laugh. "I have a feeling I look creepy when I'm not smiling." The audience slowly begins to warm up to the charm that emits from my body in waves. I am no brutal tribute seeking bloodshed, but there is something about me that has the audience slightly interested. They do not see me as a top contender to emerge as victor, but in their eyes they know they could possibly be looking upon the underdog of these games.

Damien chuckles lightly, as he begins to move the interview forward. "Oh, tell me is it Nel that makes you smile so much?"

"Well she does make me smile more often than most; especially when she gets mad. It can be quite comical at times. Like this one time I accidentally dumped an entire container of water on her; she slapped me quite quickly after that, but I really don't mind. I think of it as more than a love tap than anything else." Nel's fiery temper is just one of the many qualities that make her my best friend. It makes her different from anyone else who has crossed my path throughout my life.

"Well your friendship does appear to be valuable to the pair of you," I nod once is response. "Of course it is; I wouldn't trade being friends with Nel for all the delicious desserts in the world."

A soft bubble of laughter rises from the audience; never before did I fathom the idea that I would leave any sort of impression on the audience. I thought I would be one that would be easily forgotten and overlooked by the more ruthless and intriguing tributes. I am not putting on an act in this moment like so many before me have. I am simply being me; the only person I know how to be.

"She must be really important to you then because there are some delicious desserts here in the Capitol. I'm surprised I haven't put on some hefty weight due to the temptations of sugar cakes and all kinds of other treats."

"I have never eaten so much sugar before now and that is probably a good thing. Too much energy does nothing to help my coordination." Over the last few days that have dragged by never before have I eaten so much food. Going to bed with your stomach full is seen as more of a luxury in the lower Districts instead of being seen as a right as many of the careers view it.

Damien smiles, but the look in his eyes screams that he has a few more intriguing questions to be asked that he longs to see swirl about in the surrounding air. "As you heard earlier, Pike is willing to give up everything for Alexia, would you give up everything for Nel?"

Nel has already given up so much for my sake; there are days that I swear I wouldn't be around if it wasn't for her. She is the one who keeps me grounded and keeps my sense of direction straight. "Nel has already made so many sacrifices for me growing up and I mean she is here because of me so yes I would be willing to give up everything for her. That's what best friends do right?"

"Yes, that is what they do, but it is clear to see that the bond of friendship you both share is something that won't fade; not even after death."

I shift uncomfortably in my seat quickly, as his words slowly begin to sink in. Over the last few days I haven't really realized what it is that shall play out soon. Nel never brought up the idea that one of us or both of us will soon lose our lives and I always find myself getting distracted before these thoughts can be brought to light. In a way Nel has been attempting to shield me from these horrors we are a part of, but there has always only been so much she can do.

"Tell me, what would you give to be walking along the old rail road tracks in your home District right now?" Damien asks claiming my attention once more.

"Well that depends; do I have to walk next to the rail road tracks? I'm not exactly allowed there anymore after an incident where I almost got hit by a train," I grin sheepishly at the memory. Disaster always seemed to follow me with each step I take and it must be a miracle that I have lived this long. Fate has this way of bringing me close to death before, but somehow I have always been able to step out of the way of its icy hold.

"You really are an uncoordinated young man; now I have to ask, but do you want to win?" I scratch my head, thinking this question over. I never really believed I stood the chance of winning, but never once would I admit to wanting to die. I glance over towards my fellow tributes and know many of us do not hold onto a death wish. None of us deserve to die, but many of us will lose our lives anyways.

This must be why Nel holds such a fiery hatred towards the Capitol; for in her eyes what we are taking a part in his truly barbaric, but it is something that we cannot change. I never really thought about my own personal opinion about the Capitol, but it is clear from Nel's rants that they hold some truth. Everything about this is wrong; including any ambitions to win.

"Well I don't want to die because that would not be the highlight to my day," I say with a slight shrug of my shoulders, as the buzzer begins to go off.

"Collin, before you go, are you sure you understand everything about this situation?" Damien asks me, as I stand up about to leave the stage.

"Yeah, I understand that I need to run like hell from the bloodbath otherwise I won't be making it anywhere." I descend the stairs of the stage and sit back in my seat. No, I am not the most memorable tribute, but I am still present. We are all fighting for something; whether it is for glory or our lives. Some of us are meant to be here, but I was never a part of that grouping. I am a part of those of us who just want to get someone we care about home.

**District 12 female tribute – Age seventeen – Bluebell Hart's point of view**

I walk onto the stage as a slowly rising chant dances through the audience's lungs. I look down and smile softly as I stand in the center of the stage and the spot-lights shine on me. Only me. I am almost as radiant as fire itself. Tight-black jumpsuit and knee-high boots with a heel. And a silky red drape over my shoulder. Red pumps are on my feet and my soft blond hair is held in a ponytail by a red ribbon. In the clutches of my slender fingers is Mr. Fluffiness, wearing a red ribbon of his own around his neck. I sit down as the Interviewer turns and smiles at me, before he glances at Mr. Fluffiness. I protectively wrap my arms tighter around my precious rabbit until Damien slowly shifts his gaze towards my eyes, which sparkle with a fiery intensity.

By the moment this interview comes to a close all of Panem will have seen the insanity that I have kept locked away for so many years. There is no more hiding behind a façade of innocence; this innocence shall come crashing own upon an unknowing world. They will soon see that I am the girl who plays with fire; the girl who burned many lives into nothing but ash. I made the world feel the pain I harboured after I listened to the tortured screams of my family perishing amongst the red hot flames that ate away at their flesh hungrily. Soon they will all see the true madness that a girl can possess. I look up at Damien and allow a dainty smile to grace my lips. They always said the eyes are the windows to the soul, but in my eyes they are the gateways to the true insanity within.

"Bluebell, dear, you didn't have to bring that little bunny on stage with you, here I'll take it for you and get an avox to hold it for you while you're up here," Damien reaches forward for Mr. Fluffiness, but I recoil back from his grasp. There is no one alive that ever touches him; he is mine and mine alone.

"I would much rather hold onto him so don't ever try touching him again," I hug Mr. Fluffiness close to my chest as I speak. Damien pulls his hand back sharply, as if he has been burned by acid. He clears his throat and begins to question me. Soon they will realize they will wish they knew nothing about me. There are always two sides to every coin and my other side is one they will want to keep faced down.

Over the last few days my plans have drastically changed all thanks to the brute from District Four. My plan had once been simple; to manipulate him had been my intentions. I would make him listen to my every whim by allowing him to give into his more lustful desires, but his pride and thirst for power won over. I wanted to lure him away from the careers, but now I must hunt Theo down during our time in the arena. I will stand by, as I burn his flesh into nothing. No one will stand in my way from claiming his life as my own.

"Okay, now Bluebell what drove a low District girl like yourself to volunteer?" I twirl a strand of hair through my slender fingers innocently. No one would be able to understand why I chose to stand upon this stage; why I allowed those two seemingly simple words that have been spoken by many before myself by both victors and victims alike to escape my lips. In the eyes of Panem I am nothing more than a sweet fair girl who could have everything to lose. They don't know I have already lost everything; including my sanity. The fires of hell have a way of warping the mind into its own sick image, but I freely allowed this to happen.

"There was nothing left for me back home; I had already burned them all so it was time I found a new playing field," My tone is unsettling, as I wrap my fingers around the silky ribbon tied around Mr. Fluffiness's neck. From behind its confidents I pull out a slender match and slowly roll it between my delicate fingers. The destruction this simple material could create would never cease to fascinate me. An eerie silence has begun to dance across the room, as no one understands the thoughts that must be running rampant across my mind. I don't want to wait till a new dawn to be able to create the fires that I desire to watch lick away at my enemies flesh.

Many years ago there was a girl knows as the girl who was on fire, but I shall bring a whole new meaning to that title. I shall twist and warp it so it matches a whole new sinister meaning. During the chariots I allowed the heat of the flames to lick away at my skin making me the real girl who was on fire.

"Bluebell, what on Earth on you doing with that match?" Damien asks me, as his eyes remain transfixed on the match held tightly between my clutches. One simple strike would be all it takes to bring everything burning down into nothing. I would take great pleasure in listening to so many screams of anguish. I don't say anything as I strike the match; allowing the flame to cast faint shadows flickering playfully against my soft skin. I turn to face Damien with my eyes gleaming with insanity and before anyone can react I bring the flame closer to the clothing that covers his body. The flames begin to singe at the cloth, as he jumps away from me. The entire audience gasps as they watch this scene play out before them.

"Security!" Damien calls out and in a matter of moments I am being dragged away from the stage.

"Sleep tight fellow tributes because tomorrow will be the day I watch you all burn," My tone is innocent in a haunting manner and sends chills riveting down ones spine. I am dragged to my room where the door is locked firmly behind me. All of Panem received a glimpse at what I am truly capable of. I will burn that entire arena to the ground if it is the last thing I do. There is no more acting; that phase in the game has come and gone. Now all that shall be left is the pain and the horrors. I will make my fellow tributes experience pain on a whole new level, while their screams reach ear piercing levels. It shall be like a sweet lullaby to my ears. No one can understand what it is I have become; not when I can't even begin to see what must have gone so wrong that caused my mind to snap. However this is who I am now and I shall embrace this girl who is on fire with open arms.

**So guess what chapter is next? The bloodbath ;D**

**You better be excited as I am; hopefully I'll have that posted within a week or so :3**

**Now here is your sponsor question for this chapter.**

**What is the salute of Katniss' District and a sign of defiance to the cameras?**

**The first to answer correctly will receive six sponsor points and the next three to answer correctly will receive four sponsor points!**


	23. The First Blood To Fall: The Bloodbath

**The answer to my previous trivia question was: kissing your three middle fingers then holding them up in the air.**

**The receivers of those points were TheKatieKat who answered first and got six sponsor points. The following three each received four sponsor points: i-am-foxface, QueenOfSwordsAndFire and MadolynMcGinty.**

**And here is the much anticipated bloodbath; you better hope your tribute survived ;D**

**District 10 female tribute – Age sixteen - Cassie Hughes point of view**

My heart hammers loudly against my chest, as my platform begins to rise slowly, as if it is taunting me. A small ripple of fear works its way through my veins, but I breathe in sharply and will this feeling to dissolve into nothing once more. I close my eyes briefly and I can almost see Jack standing before me. With the sight of him before me I feel a soft wave of bravery wash over me. I can make it through this; somehow I will find my real determination to survive. I glance up as the roof before me begins to give way and dark light filters through the opening. This is really it; the moment all of Panem has been waiting for. There is nothing any of us could have really done to prepare ourselves for this moment; the true realization of what it will shortly play out only really comes into prospective the moment our eyes pay witness to our arena.

It takes a moment for my eyes to adjust to the faint light that dances around the arena. I glance up and can see the faint glow of the sun, but it is blocked out by a heavy grey fog. I only have a few brief seconds to take in my new surroundings and the playing field that has been chosen for us is unsettling at best. The landscape is bleak and void of any real color. No vibrant green grass dots the ground, but instead grey dust and dirt remains unsettled by our feet. In the distance I can see vast structures made of white materials, but from my vantage point I can't quite make out what it is. Somewhere in the distance I can hear the hissing of steam being released into the air and the remnants of bones from some kind of beast lay scattered along the wasteland. An elephant graveyard is what we have been thrown into to play amongst.

My eyes graze along the circle of tributes and finally they fall upon the golden cornucopia that glistens dully in the paling light. A life source is what stands before us; that for many of us will spell our doom. I will be risking everything to get my hands on the weapon it is I seek. With a whip in my hands my chances of survival will greatly increase, but as the seconds slowly begin to slip away my eyes cannot find the weapon which I seek. My breathing begins to pick up as the time being called out over head begins to crawl closer still to zero.

Five.

I need to survive the bloodbath; not only does my life hang in the balance by my success, but so does the lives of my alliance. None of us stand a great chance of fleeing from the bloodbath empty handed and making it very far into these games.

Four.

I need to focus my thoughts in on why I want to live. There is so much more to my life that will remain untouched if I am to lose my life amongst this arena. Many before myself have fallen victim to the steely point of a blade, but I cannot allow myself to join them.

Three.

This is nothing more than a game created for their entertainment. I cannot give into the monster they hope many of us will warp into. I must hold my morals tightly between my clutches and not allow myself to let go.

Two.

I can barely breathe in this moment, as it feels as if all the air has been sucked dry from my surroundings. Fear dances a deadly dance with the stress that threatens to pull me under. My hands softly begin to shake, but I clench my fists willing them to stop. Staying in control has never been so important before now.

One.

My emotions plague a war on me, as the moment before the gong tears through the air begins to stare me right in the eye. There is no turning back; no more thriving on illusions that this moment will never come. All that is left is accepting that this is my reality and there is nothing I can do to alter it.

The gong rips through the seams of the air and instantly the world is thrown into swirls of chaos. People are running; willing their legs to carry them faster than they ever have before. My own feet pound against the dusted earth, leaving faint footsteps in their wake. From all sides I take in those who will pose the greatest of threats to me. The careers are swarming in already setting their sights on those they will quickly dispose of. I have to get out quickly before I too fall victim to their hands that they want to see stained in scarlet. They have been created in the image of the Capitol, but they are still human, but they keep this fact hidden from the world.

The cornucopia looms in front of me, but this is when my eyes catch sight of something I never longed to see. Hadrian is running in my direction against his specific orders. That is when I see it; the small glistening object slicing through the chaos and destruction. The object comes from the slingshot that is carefully poised between the clutches of the girl from District Two. She does not stop to see what she has done before she escapes this bloodshed with the girl from District Eleven. They disappear over a cliff, as I turn my attention back to Hadrian. The bladed object lodges itself into the soft flesh of his neck and instantly the white of his skin is slick in scarlet. I know it will be only a matter of minutes before he draws his final breath.

I drop to the ground quickly, as I am in the middle of the bloodbath. I barely miss the sharp edge of Theo's axe, but he has his eyes set on a different target and for the time being I do not pose as a threat to him. The mouth of the cornucopia is only inches away from where I lay and within its depths is where I see a single bladed whip. I begin to scramble towards it, but it is quickly snatched up by the girl from District Eight. I stand up to snatch it away from her, but my actions are cut short by someone grabbing a hold of my hair.

A single scream escapes my lips, as the predator tightens his hold on my hair. All the air rushes out of my lungs the moment I feel the piercing pain tear its way through my stomach. I glance down to see a blade stained in my own crimson blood breaking away from my flesh. I look up into the dull lifeless orbs that belong to Morgan the boy from District Two. I search for any real emotion, but not a lick of remorse graces his features. He wrenches the blade out of my stomach and allows my body to drop to the ground in a crimson stained heap. I begin shaking violently, as tears begin to snake their way down my cheeks.

I was meant to lead my alliance, but I fell before I could even escape the clutches of the bloodbath. In this moment however I do not cry for myself, but I cry for the knowledge that I know my little sister and Jack are watching. They are being forced to watch the flicker of life leave my eyes and that pain greatly surpasses my own. The buzzing chaos slowly begins to fade away, as does all the colors this bleak wasteland possesses. Other tributes remain fallen in the dirt clinging onto the last final shreds of their lives just as I do in this moment, but to my knowledge the only other tribute who has fallen is Hadrian, but I know more will soon be joining him; myself included.

My shoulders shake with each ragged breath I take, as the desperate screams of my fellow tributes ring with insanity through the air. My skin begins to fall cold, as if I have been pin pricked by the finest of icicles. My eyes fall shut, but stained to my lids is the final image I want to be branded across my mind before I slip away into nothing. My family stands before me smiling brightly, as if they are welcoming me home. Jack stands next to them with his arms spread wide, waiting to embrace me. The moment I walk into his arms is the moment I take my last laboured breath.

Bravery was only able to get me so far, but all I wanted was to live to see another sunrise. Soon somewhere in the distance my cannon will go off, but I pray my family does not shed their tears, but that would be asking for the inevitable. My features appear almost peaceful, as my eyes glaze over; the life that once flickered in their depths having been blown out.

**District 6 female tribute – Age sixteen - Nelira "Nel" Blue's point of view**

The sound of the gong continuously rings through my ears, as my eyes frantically search for Collin. That idiot could be anywhere lost amongst the dark shadows of chaos dancing tauntingly through the air. I will my short legs to move faster, but already many tributes have claimed the most valuable treasures from within the depths of the cornucopia. I quickly jump over the boy from District Seven who lays discarded on the ground with his hands firmly wrapped around his neck. Crimson pools around his body, but I don't allow this twisted sight to slow me down. The only thought running rampant through my mind in this moment is that I must find Collin.

So much violence plagues a war in my line of vision. I watch mortified as the boy from District Two wrenches his blade clean out of the girl from District Ten's stomach. He doesn't even stop to see what it is he has done before he pushes forward. Everything that the games stand for in my eyes is disgusting; none of this has ever been or will ever be right. Before I even fully register what it is I am doing I am moving once again, but this time I have a target in my sight. I quickly snatch up a dark blue backpack and sling it over my shoulders and that is when I see him; a mop of messy blonde hair peering up at me from the side of a small slope that overhangs the edge of this plain that is slowly becoming stained in crimson.

A sigh of relief escapes my lips, as I make a quick dash towards him. At least Collin was able to conjure up some form of intelligence and not act brave by trying to snatch up materials from the cornucopia. Collin opens his mouth to scream something to me, but his voice is carried up along the breeze. I curse beneath my breath knowing by doing this he could easily give up our position before we are even able to meet up.

The boy from District Twelve runs across my path, but I don't see this as a threat and due to his size trying to take him down at this moment would only spell disaster. He looks towards me and instantly his eyes widen in fear, but I instantly know it is not because of me. I wipe around quickly to see Foe standing there menacingly with two flawless steel blades held between her clutches. Before I am able to blink one of her knives tears through the air and in a split second I drop towards the ground. I glance behind me only to pay witness to the blade lodging itself deep into Alexander's skull and in a moment his body falls limp towards the ground; scarlet snaking its way across his flesh.

The moment I try to stand back up my body tumbles back towards the earth under someone else's weight. I look up at the silvery blue eyes of Foe who has a smirk dancing across her lips. "That shot was never meant for you," She brings her knife up to my throat, but out of the corner of my eye I see the one thing that could possible lead me to my salvation. I have to act quickly before Collin acts rashly, trying to come to my aid. I never needed rescuing; I can stand on my own two feet and that is exactly what I plan on doing. "Even if it was that sloppy shot never would have hit me," I snarl up at her, as my fingers slowly inch closer towards the white of a solid bone lying discarded in the dirt.

I bite my lip to stop the wince that threatens to escape my lips the moment I feel the flawless blade dig into my skin. I feel my fingers graze along the smooth bone and quickly grab it between my clutches. I bring my arm up and cleanly strike it upon the side of her head. In the moment of confusion that follows I kick her off of me and snatch up my backpack once more and scramble to my feet. I reach the edge of the small slope where Collin is standing and turn around to pay witness to Foe standing once more with another knife poised between her slender fingers. Crimson gushes from her nose, but it doesn't appear to faze her in the slightest.

"Move!" I bark at Collin, as I push him towards the slope, which causes the pair of us to tumble down the dirt. My body aches in pain, as my body slams against the solid ground. I don't hesitate before I am on my feet once more; ignoring the groans of protest my body continuously shouts at me. I roughly grab a hold of Collin's hand and drag him to his feet. I can see the shadow of a fellow tribute wavering across the ground, but I don't take the time to look back, as I already know who it belongs to. Collin sensing the danger that has begun to creep towards us grabs a hold of my hand and begins running; quickly making ground with his long legs. He drags me along, as another knife sails just overhead. "You need to work on your aim bitch!" I holler over my shoulder before Collin and I slip down another pair of slopes. I can hear Foe screeching threats at our backs, but her voice is lost amongst the howls of the wind. We continue running until I feel as if my lungs are about to burst.

"I need to rest for a moment," I breathe out while my cheeks flush with color. I sink down against the large skull that belonged to some beast that offers us some shelter. "You're bleeding," Collin points towards my neck allowing the obvious to become known. I furiously wipe away at the shallow cut, but the slight contact stings. I shrug off this slight discomfort and dump my backpack onto the ground before me. "It could be a lot worse," I say, as I begin shifting through what little supplies we were able to claim as our own. I pull out a single water bottle that is bone dry, a few packs of dried fruit and a single coil of rope. I curse in frustration as I throw our useless supplies away from us. "How the fuck are we supposed to survive when that is all we have to live off of?" My tone is bitter and blends in a dark harmony with anger.

"Nel calm down; we have to be able to use them to our advantage some how," Collin's tone is light and optimistic, as he stands up picking up our discarded materials. I cross my arms and glare daggers at the ground. I know these games were never meant to be easy, but our odds are slowly beginning to dwindle down to nothing, but I am still determined to get one of us out of here alive.

"Oh, maybe this will cheer you up; I was able to snatch this up before we fell over that slope," Collin pulls out a single slender blade and holds it clumsily between his clutches. I stand up swiftly and snatch it away from him before he can find some impossible way to injure himself. "At least we have something to protect ourselves with," I mumble softly. I look up into Collin's clear blue eyes and know he is the one who will help me stay grounded and remain level headed through the horrors that we will soon be thrown into.

"We need to keep moving before the careers can hunt us down," I take the bag from Collin and place our meager supplies into it and sling it back over my shoulders. Our feet crunch loudly against the bleak dirt, but our senses remain sharp for any oncoming predators. This early into the games I have already had a dark taste of an almost early demise, but there is no one alive that will knock me out of these games so early. I am no pawn to be easily cast to the side, but a main playing piece that will outlive the others for as long as I possibly can. My eyes dart across the arena towards each smallest of noises that flits through the air. Not only is there the physical threats lurking amongst the shadows, but it is the mental battle that could prove to be the greatest game we will ever have to play.

**District 9 male Tribute – Age eighteen – Nathan Ripley's point of view**

The underlying look of bloodlust that glimmers in the boy from District Twos eyes is unmistakable; I know what course of actions are about to play out before they even happen. The entire world seems to slow down almost to a complete stop, but in the same moment speeds up to a blinding pace. I know there is nothing I can do, as I watch the flawless blade enter Cassie's stomach. My senses go into overdrive, as I realize my alliance is slowly crumbling. Her lifeless body tumbles towards the earth and in this moment I know flight is the wisest path to venture down. I long to destroy the boy who ended my allies life, but with the seemingly endless chaos pooling like acid in the air I don't have the time to pursue him.

I turn on my heels hoping to cross paths with another of my fellow allies, but instead my eyes fall upon something that would surely help propel me further to the top. A dark backpack lies peacefully just a few feet away from me and from one of the pockets a glistening blade can be seen, beckoning any tribute forward to claim it as their own. A voice in the back of my head screams at me that the course of actions I will soon carry out will lead me to my untimely demise, but I will this voice to fall silent. My heart hammers loudly in my chest, as I push my feet forward leaving footsteps that could very well be my last in my wake.

I stretch out my fingertips until they are clutched around the smooth material, but as I try to pull back I am met with resistance. Another pair of dainty hands wraps their way around one of the straps with no intentions of letting go. The contents of treasures that could reside within this bag could very well be what stands between life and death and I will not allow this to also be taken from me. I pull with enough force to almost send my fellow tribute crashing towards the earth, but the moment my gaze meets hers I know these moments will very likely be my last. Alexia's clear blue eyes hold an undeniable determination, as she wrenches the bag from my clutches, but it is the form that is barreling towards me that has drawn every ounce of my attention.

My mind doesn't even have the time to tell me to breathe before I am knocked to the ground under the weight of Pike. The moment my eyes fell upon Alexia I knew Pike wouldn't be far from her side. He would see our struggle as a threat and would act upon his impulses to end me, but I refuse to allow that to happen. I struggle beneath his clutches, as he works his hands around my neck. He barks something at his District partner, but as the air is choked out of my very being the world slowly begins to fade, into nothing more than a single bright light. I kick out my legs in a desperate attempt to throw him off of me, as my hands claw at his flesh. However he easily overpowers me and it soon becomes clear that my struggles are futile.

My breathing comes out in straggled chokes, but still I cling onto this precious thing we call life. With deaths icy claws working their way down my spine do I break apart my final reserve of strength. I manage to wrap my hand around two of Pike's finger and bend them back at an unnatural angle. A howl of pain escapes his lips, but I use these few valuable moments to my advantage. The moment his hands unwind from their death grip by the smallest inch I am able to bring my fist around; connecting it with the soft flesh of his skull. I manage to push him off of me, but these next few moments are vital. I quickly wrap my fingers around the length of a hallowed bone that lays discarded in the disturbed dirt and raise it high over my head. One simple blow to the skull will be enough to bring his life flashing before his eyes.

As I begin to bring the bone down a single thought runs rampant across my mind; where did his beloved District partner vanish to? My question is answered the moment a spear skewers its way through my neck. The pointed tip tears away at my flesh leaving nothing but crimson in its wake. The bone drops from my hand clattering against the cold earth. My vision blurs crimson, as I pay witness to Alexia running towards Pike; helping him back to his feet. That is the last image that will ever be branded into my mind; the image of the one who ended me running away from this bloodshed her hair dancing through the wind.

I sink down to my knees; my eyes having already fallen close. My body crumbles to the ground; soaking in its own blood. Choked gurgled noises escape my lips, as my entire body shudders in agony. I can hear the tortured screams of those who are perishing by another's hands; I can still hear the maniacal laughter of the careers as they slowly become what they have always been meant to be. With my face pressed against the dirt do I see everything; every significant event that I lived through during the short life span of my life.

The structure of my school looms before me; that place which I met my best friend. Quickly the image melts away to the day my younger sister was born. I remember holding her gently in my arms; marveling over the miracle of life. More ripples spread like wildfire across my image to the day my father passed away. The drone of crying floods my ears before I pay witness to the first day I ever had to steal something to survive. Guilt had slowly ate away at my insides, but that feeling slowly dissolved away the moment I was able to pay witness to my family falling into a slumber tinged state without an empty stomach. Then the day that would be the beginning of my end sprouts into view. My name being snatched out of the reaping bowl; the sound of my name drifting along the breeze, it all almost feels too real when you are this close to death. I take in one last shuttering breath, as the image of a spear tearing through the air fades into view; then nothing.

An inky darkness swallows me whole; pulling me beneath its depths. My final thoughts drift towards my family and what would become of them. My younger sister and mother no longer had a provider; they no longer had someone to care for them. We always wish we could foresee the events that would play out after death, but that would never be. I would forever become lost in a world of shadows; the rest of the world unknown to me. My body shudders one last time before it falls still. I had been fighting for more than just my own life, but now it has all been lost.

**District 8 female tribute – Age sixteen - Rylinn Abrith's point of view**

Sweat clings to the flesh of my palms until the time overhead reaches that dreaded number of zero. Many would believe allowing oneself to run head first until the bloodshed that is determined to play out once the hourglass reaches empty would be destructive, but I have never been one to shy away from danger. No I don't live off the adrenaline rush like some form of a sick drug like some may, but the coursing feeling of adrenaline pumping through your veins is an experience I have lived through before. My black hair splays out behind me like a pair of soaring ravens wings, as I take one quick step after another. To reach the cornucopia before the rest is a goal we all wish to achieve.

I catch sight of Buck a little off to my left, who grabs a few supplies that were stationed closer to his platform, but my eyes are set on a different prize. My eyes widen slightly as they catch sight of a glistening blade that catches the light of the paling sun soaring through the air. I quickly pivot my feet so the knife only just grazes my arm; leaving a small gash along the seams of my clothing. Our arena outfits were simple; nothing more than black jackets made of a material to keep in heat, simple black pants, a grey shirt, along with a pair of combat boots. Simple yet easy to move in is how I view these clothes that now desperately cling to my body. I can feel the soft warmth of crimson soaking the sleeve of my shirt, but I do not allow that to slow me down. It is a minor wound; nothing that I haven't experienced before.

The mouth of the cornucopia looms before me, as I am one of the first tributes to be called forth by its haunting calls. That is when I see it; my weapon of choice. I catch sight of the girl from District Ten who also has her eyes set on the coiled whip lying peacefully on the ground. I don't hesitate before I am running forward and snatch it up between my clutches. I don't stop to look back if the girl is pursuing me; wanting to get her hands on this weapon. My boots crunch loudly against the ground, but I hold the whip victoriously between my fingers; poised to strike if I must. I would never know that the other girl who had her eyes set on this treasure would perish in her attempt to claim it as her own.

My breathing comes in short sharp breathes, as I reach Buck who stands up once he sees me; a knife held carefully between his grasp. "We need to go now!" I holler at him, as we both pay witness to the careers wreaking havoc upon our fellow tributes. Buck doesn't hesitate before he makes a clear path towards a flat plain that resides to the North of us. It lacks cover, but in this moment we don't have any other options. The sound of our breathing dances in a twisted harmony with the strangled cries of the ones we have left behind. I only take a brief second to register that along with his knife Buck is carrying what appears to be a sleeping bag along with a few other supplies carefully placed within its confidents. I quickly glance at my arm where a soft stinging sensation is emitted from, but the cut is nothing more than a shallow scratch; only just grazing my skin.

We don't allow ourselves to stop running; not even as the terrain slowly becomes heavy with a thick mist, which obscures our vision. The hissing of steam intertwines its way through the air, but still we push forward. The realization that I have escaped the clutches of the bloodbath begins to dawn on me, but my thoughts are cut short the moment I run into something solid; no not something someone. I quickly place out my hands allowing myself to roll across the dirt; causing wisps of dirt and dust to flit about the air. A strangled cry emits from the lips of our unwanted guest who attempts to make a quick escape, but I won't allow that to happen. The fewer tributes to make it out of these first stages alive, the fewer tributes we will have to worry about at a later date.

Before anyone else is able to react I flick out my wrist so my whip wraps its way around the unknown tributes ankle, causing him to tumble back towards the ground. My eyes begin to adjust and the struggling form takes the shape of the boy from District Three. Buck quickly strides over placing his boot firmly against Benji's back, pinning him to the ground. "Get off of me you overgrown oaf!" He hollers loudly for anyone within a close radius to hear. Buck glances towards me and nods; knowing what it is we must do. It is something neither of us holds onto a sick desire to carry out, but it is something that must be done if either of us wants to return home.

Buck holds out his knife for me to use and I gesture for him to quickly move his foot, "I need you to roll him over so I have better access to his neck; I want to make this quick." I never held onto the intentions of ending any other tribute whose life fell into my hands in a slow and sadistic way. Quick and as painlessly as possible would be all that would await my victims. I take his knife between my clutches, but the moment he removes his foot only for the briefest of moments Benji scrambles to his feet and begins his run towards salvation. Before I can think through my course of actions I flick out with my wrist, which possesses my whip and it cleanly coils its way around his neck. The bladed tip makes a horrific slicing noise, as it quickly tears away at his flesh.

I stand frozen for a moment, as disturbing chokes escape Benji's lips. This is when I realize the cut is not deep enough to end his life. I tug harder on my whip until it completely tears apart his neck. His body remains standing while his head slides off leaving dark crimson spouting from the gash. His head rolls towards the ground and shortly after his body collapses. I quickly turn my back to this sight and as does Buck. "We need to keep moving," Buck says quickly, almost forcing me to pull myself together. I quickly coil my whip up, which causes faint wisps of scarlet to lace their way across my flesh. I nod trying to regain my composure before we are moving once more; leaving the disfigured corpse of the boy from District Three in the distance.

I hold a strong disdain for everything that this stands for; for everything we will have to be put through. My features are void of all emotions, as we push further into this barren wasteland. We both know we need to find water, but in this moment neither of us dares to utter a single word. No, I am not losing my grip on reality so soon into these games, but trying to wrap my mind around the dawning fact of what I have just done is clearly taking its toll. I breathe in sharply continuously repeating to myself silently in some form of a soft mantra; it was what I had to do to survive. Survival of the fittest is what these games we play are; whether it is the strong, the brave or the ones who hold onto their wits that survive. I slowly begin to calm myself down and allow myself to see the path both Buck and I must travel down together if only for a short amount of time.

I quickly glance down at my hands and allow my eyes to follow the dried criss-cross patterns of crimson that stains my hands. Not my own blood I silently repeat to myself. At this sight a soft anger intertwines its way through my veins; an anger that could only be placed against the Capitol. I narrow my eyes at the bleak colorless sky hoping the Gamemakers and everyone who made these events possible can see me. "You're all a bunch of cowards sitting there at your neat and tidy desks, watching and waiting for us to bleed dry! I'll let you know that I am not just another one of your puppets!" My words are cut short by Buck, who firmly clamps his hand over my mouth, silencing me.

"Will you knock it off? You're going to get us both killed by saying stuff like that," He practically hisses at me. I shove his hand away, as an inaudible growl escapes my lips. I want them to hear me; I want them to see I will not die for their entertainment. They will not warp me into another one of their creations; they will not claim my mind as their own. Was my outburst foolish; brought forth by a lack of judgment? Perhaps, but it is better to voice my words now while I still can.

**District 2 female tribute – Age seventeen – Kenzi Rodger's point of view**

I never wanted to be here; not even in the beginning. I was not bred to be a stone cold killer even though that is always what my father wanted, but I had other ambitions. Having other dreams and courses in your life that you wanted to walk along no longer matter once your name was drawn out of the reaping bowl; they no longer mattered once your name was called out for all to hear. I was afraid at the moment; I'm still afraid in this living moment that I have been thrown into, but I hold onto a steely determination that allows me to hold onto my will to live.

The moment my platform rose and I was exposed to this bleak and barren terrain I locked eyes with my only ally. Hadley had nodded towards a small forested area that appeared dead and lifeless in the easterly direction and we both knew this would be the safest place to hide amongst for the time being. However my impulses had me take a different route before I would allow myself to escape to any form of salvation. There nestled amongst the treasures of the cornucopia I saw a slingshot that I know was meant for me and me alone.

I blink once and this is when I realize what it is I have done; I have willingly placed myself amongst the core of the bloodshed. I whip my head around searching for Hadley who I catch sight of still near her platform, who looks at me with disbelief dancing across her features. The single thought that runs rampant across my mind is I need to get what I came here for then disappear amongst the chaos before someone can claim my life as their own. I move with a swift grace while my hair whips behind me in the cool sharp wind. My slingshot is only a few feet away, but the sight of Morgan out of the corner of my eye catches my attention.

Between his clutches he wields a wickedly sharp blade and the look in his eyes screams that he has his first kill set on being me. I throw myself to the ground the moment his sword begins cutting through the air; its flawless blade only missing me by inches. As I hit the ground I look up and my slingshot lays undisturbed on the ground before me. I snatch it up quickly and look up in time only to see Morgan with his sword held high above his head. "This is what happens to little careers who think they are better than the rest of us," He snarls while his sword glints menacingly in the light; casting a dark shadow across my body. I wait for the perfect moment; the moment before his blade would pierce through my skin. The moment his blade comes swishing towards my body I roll away from him and kick out my legs; causing him to crash down towards the earth.

"You should really learn to not underestimate me," I almost growl, as I scramble up to my feet before Morgan can regain his composure. With my slingshot in my hand I snatch up a backpack that lies in the heap of supplies and begin to make my getaway. I sling my bag over my shoulder and glance down at my slingshot, which has a small black bag attached to it. I quickly open it to find steely sharp metal balls meant to destroy my victims. The moment I look back up is when I see the boy from District Seven about to cross my path. I am no bloodthirsty career, but this is something that needs to be done.

The metal object is cutting through the air before he can even realize the danger that is approaching him. The object digs its way deep into the soft flesh of his neck; until crimson is flowing steadily across his body, as if it were nothing more than a waterfall. No that boy didn't deserve to die, but then again do I deserve to choose death so he could have lived. As I reach the small incline that would lead us towards the dead wooded area I catch sight of the look of horror gleaming in Hadley's eyes. There would be no way to explain to her why I had to take his life when he posed no real threat to myself. I grab a hold of her wrist and drag her forward; my intentions on being escaping these lands before Morgan can find us.

Perhaps I should have taken his life when I had the chance, but instead I acted upon my impulses to seek a shred of salvation. I drag Hadley along while my own thoughts begin to run away from me; slipping between the cracks. Thoughts of how to survive and how to conquer dance across the plane of my mind; almost as if they are dancing a twisted tango of sorts. How they would expect us to be able to survive in these barren wastelands I would never be able to comprehend. They appear void of any life source and all the colors seem to have been sucked dry from this world. We reach the tree line, as we continue our path. Tree branches whip across our skin, as if they are trying to hold us as prisoner, but we do not allow them to slow us down.

The moment the raging sounds of battle cease to exist do we slip around a small grove of misshapen and dying trees and allow ourselves to catch our breath. I take several deep gasps, trying to take in as much air as I possibly can. "I can't believe you just killed that boy like that," Hadley says after a few moments and I almost find her words ironic. This is the Hunger Games; this is what we have to do if we want to stand any chance of survival.

"If I didn't kill him someone else would have," I readjust the bag over my shoulder hoping its contents will aid us, but I know now is not the time to search through what treasures we have been able to claim as our own. Hadley nods once in understanding and stands back observing our playing field. "We need to stay on a direct course; if we stray too far away from our path there is no telling what we could possibly run into."

Hadley's and my own personality almost contradict each other, but we can use this to our advantage. While she is organized I am rash and act on my impulses; while she is mostly calm I have a fiery temper. However together our personalities give us a slight edge in these games. An edge is something that we all seek after with much desire; that one step that will help us surpass our competition.

"Which way do you recommend we go?" I ask knowing the direction we need to take must lead us towards a water source.

Hadley remains quiet for a moment; listening to her surroundings intently. "We need to go that way; I can hear the hissing of steam, which means there must be some source of water nearby," As she speaks she points one slender hand off into the distance towards our left. I don't question her judgment, as I trust she knows what it is she is talking about.

I nod once before we begin walking once more; the bloodshed that once plagued war upon our vision slowly fading into the background. I glance behind us knowing the battle must be continuing to play out, as the cannons have yet to fire. How many have perished so early into these games and how many more will fall by the time twilight dances across this wasteland is the one question many of us shall be asking ourselves. We are alive in this moment, but the real question is how many of us will live just to die another day?

**District 8 male tribute – Age fourteen - Shohn Vekriss's point of view**

I stand frozen in place; unable to move an inch of my body. The stench of death hangs heavily in the air, but I remain grounded to my platform. My mind screams at me to run, but my muscles won't listen to a single word my mind screeches at them. I watch helplessly as each of my allies are cut down until the life leaves their eyes; each of their murderers getting away with the horrors they have committed. My entire body begins to shake violently, as I realize the only tributes present alive are now the careers. The moment the boy from District Two with the steely dull eyes turns his attention towards me I take a single step back, but I trip over the edge of my platform and am sent crashing towards the ground.

I desperately dig my hands into the dusted earth and try to drag my body forward, but still it does not listen to my minds commands. Their laughter rings through the air with insanity, as they are in that one place they were always meant to be. Utter terror intertwines its way through my veins, as I realize I have reached the end of the road. All those times my eyes would graze across the pointed steel of a blade or dance across the coiled end of a rope, but I refused to give into what dark desires called me forth; now I see what was the point? I would still meet the same end of an untimely demise.

At least if I was to allow myself to claim my own life I would know what to expect, but in this moment all I can expect is that they will not allow me leave this world painlessly. This is what they were born to do; to wreak havoc upon those of us who are weaker; those of us who cannot defend ourselves. I will never understand how they can take pleasure in this; how they cannot see the wrong they are committing. I slowly begin to pull myself across the dirt, but this only causes the volume of their twisted laughter to increase, as if this sight before them is comical.

"Grab his arms and force him to his feet; I want to see just how terrified this pathetic lower District scum is," The boy who must be their leader barks and before I can even blink two pairs of arms wrap around my flesh and force me to my feet. I look wildly between the two pairs of arms that hold me prisoner, which belong to the District Two boy and the District Four girl. Not a single drop of remorse is reflected in their eyes, but a single thought dawns on me. They chose to be here so there would be no room for them to regret what it is they think they must do to survive.

"Tell me little District Eight do you want to play?" The boy Theo from District Four contorts his features into a twisted smile that causes terrified shivers to rake their way down my spine. I shake my head no simply, as all possible words fail to leave my lips. I can't even fathom how pathetic I must appear in their eyes; how weak I must seem. In this moment I feel weak, as if I am nothing more than a bird trapped in a cage, but then again haven't I always felt that way?

"Smart move on your part on not even bothering to run; makes our job a lot easier," The girl from District Four says with a slight smirk tugging at her lips. I keep my eyes trained on the ground quietly begging to myself that my death is quick. My body continues to vibrate violently, as my mind slowly begins to lose its hold on reality. I know my family is watching this play out back home; I know they share my pain and fear. For myself it will all soon be over, but for them the pain of this loss will remain living. "Just get it over with," I whisper almost inaudible.

"Now where would be the fun in that?" Theo places the flawless steel of his axe just beneath my chin and forces me to raise my head so I am looking straight into the eyes of the predators of this arena. They are the ones who will stalk the night; they are the ones who will screech with delight each moment the sound of the cannon tears through the air.

"Pathetic," Theo hisses before he swings out with his axe in one swift movement. I pay witness to the axe tearing away at my stomach causing blood to pool down my body, but I almost feel nothing. Perhaps it is because I am already dead, but the numbing feeling that tinges my entire being is undeniable. The careers release their hold on me and allow me to fall face first into the dirt. My last breath is swept away before I even make contact with the earth. The dirt is where all things begin and it is where we shall all end. To be buried beneath the ground is where I shall end up; a headstone placed above those who have lost. A name engraved upon the stone, stating the day your life blew out. A burning candle is what life is; fragile yet beautiful, but easily put out.

I didn't stand a chance in these twisted games, but never for a moment did I want to be here lying face down in the dirt, while my deep crimson blood soaks into the earth. I was young, but I was easily overlooked and forgotten. I never realized how precious life was until I could no longer hold onto it. In this wasteland we will lose it all; when we stand alone we will surely fall. Another name forgotten amongst the whispers of history is what I will become, but better to have been a whisper than nothing at all.

**So here is just a list of characters that are still alive :3**

District One - Phoenix 'Foe' Sterling

District One – Dapar Radsha

District Two – Kenzi Rodgers

District Two - Morgan Scott

District Three – Kallina Censura

District Four – Vencitiy Corbinette

District Four- Theo Macdonald

District Five – Alexia Tide

District Five – Pike Rivers

District Six – Nelira 'Nel' Blue

District Six – Collin Wrathers

District Seven – Ayla Treleve

District Eight – Rylinn Abrith

District Nine- Astoria Delacorte

District Ten – Buck Wolfe

District Eleven – Hadley June Chevalier

District Eleven - Bryson Rhode Weatthers

District Twelve – Bluebell Hart

**I realize there still seems to be quite a few names up there, but by the end of the first day there will be several more dead :3**

**Regarding sponsor points I have updated that chapter and if you wish to see your points and to use some of your sponsor points to sponsor tribute just PM me to let me know; the prices of the materials that can be bought are still on the first chapter :3**

**Now hopefully that wasn't too awful so make sure you review :D**

**Now here is your sponsor question for this chapter.**

**What is the color of Effie Trinket's suit that she wears during the reapings in the Hunger Games book?**

**The first to answer correctly will receive six sponsor points and the next three to answer correctly will receive four sponsor points!**


	24. Don't Draw Your Last Breath: Day One

**The answer to my previous trivia question was: A spring green suit**

**The receivers of those points were Fleur-WickedWitchOfBeauxbatons who answered first and got six sponsor points. The following three each received four sponsor points: i-am-foxface, QueenOfSwordsAndFire and KingWolf111.**

**District Two male tribute – Age seventeen - Morgan Scott****'s point of view**

The stench of death hangs heavily in the arena, creating an almost toxic acid hanging heavily within the air. Bodies lay strewn across the blood soaked earth; their final breathes being swept away from them. My dull eyes fall upon the deceased body of the girl from District Ten; not a single ounce of remorse ripples across the surface of my eyes at the sight of her. She had to become nothing than a lifeless body lying face down in the dirt if I want to return home. I absentmindedly wipe my blade off along the now stained cloth of my jacket, while the conversing of my fellow careers swirls around in the death stained air.

"We need to get our camp set up as quickly as possible so the hunt can begin," A twisted smile graces Theo's lips as he speaks. The hunt for those who are beneath us is the moment each of us has been impatiently waiting for. The hunt is something many of us seek after with such desire while some only participate in the horrors of the hunt because we have no choice.

"If we keep our camp situated here we will gain the vantage point; besides none of us have the patience to move all of our supplies to a new location," Foe says in a drawling tone. Her District partner Dapar quickly agrees with her, but each of us has observed that he will go along with any word that spills from her lips. My eyes fall upon the plain that stretches out into a darkened land of decaying woods. I know that is the direction Kenzi has chosen to walk down; a small frown plays across my lips, as the unsettling dawning fact that I allowed her to get away washes over me. She was supposed to be nothing more than an easy kill in these Games, but she is proving to be more than that.

I remain distant, as I help set up our camp, but never for a moment do my eyes leave the terrain of the rotting forested area. That is the terrain I want to press the hunt upon first; that is the place where I want to see more blood spilt. I shake my head wildly as these thoughts plague a war upon my mind. This is what has always been expected of us; to sink down to the lowest of levels and to be labelled with the title of monster. No, I never wished for this title to be graced upon me, but I have reached the standards that would brand me with such a name. Our humanity is something we want to hold dear between our clutches, but time and time again we allow it to slip free through the cracks.

I glance towards my fellow careers who busy themselves in conversation; the thrill of the hunt that shall soon follow buzzing between us like electricity through the air. "Not trustworthy," I mutter under my breath, as the dawning fact that aligning myself with them was beyond my better judgment. I shift my gaze towards the bleak colorless sky, sorting out the few paths that stand out before me. In these Games our options are limited, but there is only a select few who can make the right choices that will allow them to hold onto their life.

"I can't believe the pair from District Five got away," I hear Theo growl. I roll my eyes in response to these words, as he really did believe it would be that easy in taking them out.

"And whose fault would that be?" Foe comments with a slight smirk tugging at her lips.

"I will get the best of both of them so don't you dare question me," Theo snarls and this is when I know what I must do. I snatch up a backpack and easily sling it over my shoulders and place my sword into my belt. I will not remain a part of this when all that will await me is a finely placed knife between my shoulder blades. Trust is something that must be shared amongst an alliance; trust is something none of us share. I turn my back towards them and begin making my way towards the eerie forested area, but I am cut short by the sound of Dapar's voice. "Where are you going?" He asks and I breathe out sharply in slight annoyance. Time is something that is not of the essence and I don't have the time or the patience to exchange such petty words.

"I'm leaving this alliance while I still have my life as my own," I say coolly, as I begin to walk away. None of them question this, as in their eyes I am just one less threat they will have to watch their backs with; one less person who could just as easily slit their throats during their peaceful sleep. Peace is an emotion that shall be shattered within the vacant lands of this arena. The lifeless ground beneath my feet crunches with each step I take and there is a part of me that expects to feel the piercing pain of a blade tearing away at my back, but the sensation never comes. Why they don't chose to take my life here and now is something I won't ever fully comprehend. Perhaps it is because they see I will be more worthy of being hunted.

I make my way over the small rolling cliffs that lead towards the seemingly deserted forests. The trees spread far above me in a darkening canopy; almost completely blocking out the faint light that filters in from the sun. A soft mist licks its way across the ground, as I search the dirt for any signs that someone has been here before I. I snap my head up at the sounds of snapping twigs, but still I push forward. My senses begin to work in overdrive; picking up on anything and everything. Nothing in these vital moments shall go unnoticed. Everything holds an importance in these games, even the smallest of unsettled dirt. I know Kenzi took this path and she can't be far off.

I appear to walk aimlessly for hours on end, as the sun now stretches high above me in the hazy grey that is the sky. I snap my head back and forth at the smallest of noises, but even in this moment I do not regret my decisions to part from the other careers this early in the games. I stop short the moment an intense hissing rises like wildfire through the air. My eyes grow wide, as if they attempting to take in as much as they possibly can. They dart around wildly, as suddenly the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. My hand inches towards my blade, as I wait for my silent predator to make their presence known.

This is how they must feel year after year; those from the lower Districts. To know you are being watched, to know each and every one of your movements is being followed. It is an eerie unwelcoming feeling that washes over me, one that I would never in my life time want to become acquainted with. This is beyond knowing you are being watched by the citizens of Panem; this feeling is something more. This is knowing that your possible murderer could be standing within reach. This knowledge is something none of us would ever want to know.

My eyes slowly begin to search every inch of the trees that spread out high above me; enveloping the entire area in their darkened shadows. No silent shadow moves for only my eyes to see, but the feeling that I am being watched does not fade. "Show yourself," I speak clearly, but keep my tone calm. No one answers my words, but to do so would give up the shadows position. To the world I would almost appear bored with these games, but I cannot lie to myself about my heart hammering against the confinements of my chest. I am only human; trained or not even I can feel fear. I would never admit this to the world, but my mind is the one place where I can be safe in a sense; that one place where they cannot get to me.

All that can be heard is the aching sounds of the branches moving in the wind and the steady sound of my own breathing. I can feel a pair of steely eyes trained on my form; refusing to release their hold on me. I am a career, I was meant to be the hunter not the hunted. Yet in this moment I know I am not alone.

**District Eleven male tribute – Age fourteen - Bryson Rhode Weatthers point of view**

I continue running; allowing the wind to wipe through my curly brown hair, until it is mattered to the flesh of my forehead; slicked down by my own heated sweat. Dust swarms the air with each step I take; leaving a faint trail in my wake. I managed to escape the horrors of the bloodbath, but at the cost of escaping with no supplies to my name. No alliance, no supplies and most likely no sponsors; in my eyes the odds are not in my favour at this point in time.

I come to a screeching halt, as I begin to register just how great a distance I have covered. My chest elevates then falls with each breath I take, as I try to take in as much oxygen as my body will allow me to. For the first time do I allow myself to take in my new surroundings. A bleak grey wasteland spans the horizon, while large structures of bone dot the area. I begin walking slowly, but even in this moment the seriousness of the situation I have been thrown into has not settled upon me. It feels almost surreal, as if this is nothing more than a dream. Dangerous is what this feeling of being beyond reality will turn out to be.

I reach down picking up a small rock and absentmindedly turn it through my fingers. I wonder if the citizens of the Capitol are betting on which career it shall be that takes my life or how much longer I will be able to survive in this barren wasteland. I shrug these thoughts off knowing I am nothing more than one of those tributes that have faded away into the background. It happens year after year; there are those that are forgotten and leave no impression upon those who watch us take our last breath. The only thought that remains prominent upon my mind is that if I am going to die at least I was able to get under the skin of the careers before then.

I continue running my fingertips over the smooth surface of the rock in my hand, while my eyes continue to search across the terrain before me. The arena stretches as far as the eye can see; with so many paths for one to choose to walk down. Most lead to death; perhaps each and every one of them will lead me to the same end. The only difference would be the way I would be forced to have the light in my eyes flicker out.

I breathe out slowly, as I toss the rock so it tears through the air. It collides with the hollowed out structure of a bone, sending an ear splitting echoing noise spiraling through the air. An eerie silence settles over the arena before a horrific screeching is emitted into the air. My eyes grow in fear, as from within the depths of the bone a pair of eyes begin to glow with a luminescent yellow; the steely black of its pupils appearing to bore into my flesh. This pair of eyes is joined by several more until the entire structure appears to be full of nothing more than piercing eyes.

Fear slowly begins to constrict my body; holding it as its prisoner. Another terrifying screech tears its way through the air before the sound of wings enters my ears. It takes only a split moment to register what it is I have done; I have disturbed a nest of their precious mutations. Several bird like creatures dart out of the bone they had claimed as their nest. Their long pointed beaks and deadly sharp talons almost glimmer menacingly in the daunting light; their shadows painting across the terrain. Vultures are the proper name they would be labelled with, but these creatures are different. Their feathers appear to be laced in a network of colors that are not natural, while their eyes are cold and lifeless.

They screech in a harmony of hungry calls and in this moment I know where they believe their next meal lies. I'm running before I even realize what it is I'm doing or where I am going. The plain set out before me is barren and holds no promise of shelter. The sound of fluttering wings and inhuman screeching swarms my ears, as I continue to run; willing my legs to move faster. Their shadows dot the ground beneath my feet and it is in this moment I know there is no chance I will be able to outrun these winged beasts. That is when I see it; a small hollowed out bone structure that may be my final salvation.

The one place that may offer me protection is almost within my grasps, but before I can slip into its confinements my feet become entangled within each other, causing me to tumble towards the earth. The mutations let a victorious screech ring out their lungs, as they know they have won. I desperately begin to claw my way across the ground, but as I look up I am met face to face with the cold lifeless eyes of one of the vultures.

They slowly begin to soar down towards the ground; enclosing me in a tightly enclosed circle. They all tilt their heads slightly, watching me closely, but they do not move from their position. A bubble of panic begins to rise in my chest, as what they are doing is trying to strike as much fear as they possibly can into their prey. I glance towards the small hallowed out bone structure one last time and this is when I see the deep brown eyes that could only belong to another human being, watching me with wide frightful eyes.

I open my mouth to plead for help, but the moment my tongue is exposed one of the vultures crams its beak down my throat, tearing my tongue out. A strangled scream escapes my lips, splattering deep crimson droplets across the earth beneath me. This scream acts as a signal; alerting the vultures that their feast has begun. Their beaks and talons continuously tear away at my flesh; ripping my skin straight off the bone. Horrific blood curdling screams continuously escape my lips, as pain rivets through my entire being. Never once did I fathom the idea that I would be eaten alive in this arena of hell.

My vision begins to blur while all that can be heard are the sounds of flesh being torn off my bones. I weakly look down at my ravaged body and this twisted sight causes me to feel ill, but the feeling of weakness begins to swallow me whole. I force myself to look into those rich brown eyes one last time, but the reflection that ripples across their surface has changed; driven mad, given into the monster within is what they now possess due to the bloodshed they have paid witness to.

I drop my head into the dirt; the feeling of numbness tingeing my entire being. The sound of tearing flesh dances in harmony with the vulture's hungry growls. They eat until there is nothing left; until my deep scarlet blood and remnants of my flesh are scattered and soaked into the earth. Blood slowly pools out of my mouth before the light in my eyes goes out forever more.

I never saw them coming; the winged beasts. They devoured me whole while my form was still breathing. I never took any of this seriously until it was too late, but to realize your mistakes when it is already too late has never or will ever be enough.

**District Nine female tribute – Age fifteen - Astoria Delacorte's point of view**

My deep brown eyes take in every inch of the scene that plays out before me. While Bryson struggles to hang onto the final shreds of his life I remain safely tucked away within the confinements of this hallowed out bone structure. The vulture's piercing eyes don't bore into my own flesh, as they are absorbed in the meal before them. I close my eyes tightly, as his deep crimson blood begins to pool across the dusted land in soft ravines. So much blood lays splayed out across the barren wasteland before me; enough to make even the strongest of tributes to be driven mad by insanity, but that is not what pushes me over the edge.

I slowly edge my fingers down to my waist where a single belt rests that is now strung with a few simple knives. I was able to snatch them up within my clutches along with a full bottle of water, a pack of matches and a bottle of iodine before I slipped away into the chaos. I remove a single blade from my belt and bring it up towards my face; observing my reflection in the flawless steel. The sounds of Bryson's straggled screams continue to flit about in the air surrounding me, but soon even those tortured sounds begin to fade away into nothing once more.

Within the depths of the reflection of my eyes is when I see it; the wavering light that threatens to give way to something dark and sinister. An inaudible gasp escapes my lips, as I slam the knife down causing a weak wave of disturbance in the air. I look back up through the scarlet tainted air at Bryson's now deceased form. His flesh has been cleanly picked from his flesh; his eyes having been pecked out of their sockets. His empty eye sockets appear to bare into me while is mouth hangs slightly ajar, as if his final words were along the whisper of one final plea for help; help for a salvation that would never come.

I clench my fist in anger; anger mainly directed at myself. I can't help anyone in these Games let alone myself. The hungry screeches of the vultures ring with insanity through my ears, as my anger slowly begins to direct itself at someone else. To place the blame of the deaths of the tributes that roam this arena isn't right, not when the blame should be placed upon the Capitol. I grew up with their propaganda so I was never able to fully understand what they were doing to each and every one of us. Yet now I am able to see with brand new eyes and this new insight only causes the demon within me to growl hungrily. She wants no needs to feed off this anger, which is exactly what she does.

I close my eyes and breathe out slowly, as everything that I once held dear begins to slip away through the cracks. I feel sick to my stomach at the sight of the decaying body before me; the image of his empty sockets branded against my eyelids. It all slowly begins to become too much; the blood, the curdling screams, the anger that can't be correctly placed. My head begins to throb, as if it is going to split in two then nothing slowly swarms in on me.

My surroundings are still active this I know, but in this moment I have become a prisoner of my own mind. I hear the cannons going off in the distance, signalling the deceased tributes that dance in harmony with the sounds of fluttering wings, as the vultures take flight once more having picked their prey clean. The stench of death enters my nose, but this only causes a twisted smile to grace my lips. She is free; Nika has clawed her way through the openings giving her the control she has always craved for. My eyes slowly begin to open once more, but it is as if I am seeing the world for the first time through Nika's eyes and not my own. This feeling only last for a few brief moments before everything fades to black.

I begin to drag my body out of this pathetic excuse of a shelter and look down at my still flawless flesh; the first thought that ripples across my mind is that this needs to change. I am no longer that innocent girl who would never harm a fly, but I am Nika the girl who will haunt your nightmares and drown you in your own crimson blood. Monsters were always meant to be kept locked away, but you can only deny your own reality for so long. Good cannot live without evil in this world and that is where my purpose comes into play. A girl as sweet and innocent as Astoria could never exist without a dark counterpart and that is when I was born. Two sides to a coin is what we are; opposite in every way.

I look down at the bloody mess that lays discarded at my feet and to me this is nothing more than the twisted events of the Games in their finest. I bend down and slowly trail my fingers through the pool of blood that stains the ground. I bring my fingers to my cheeks and draw two simple lines across my flesh. A form of war paint is what I will use the blood of the weak as. I bring my fingers to my lips and lick the remaining blood clean from my flesh. The sweet syrup of humanity drips from my lips giving me the true appearance of real insanity.

I stand back up and allow my gaze to fall upon the horizon. It has become time for me to hunt down those who are weak and let their tortured screams ring through the air. All I want is to hear the sweet twisted lullabies of their desperate pleas for mercy. They will beg for a mercy that I will not grace upon them. If it is games they want it is a game they are going to pay witness to.

The world must know that Nika is free and I am here for blood and blood alone. No one will be safe from my clutches; no one will be safe from my flawless blades. My victims will see the true cruelty that the darkest plummets of the world can call forth. They will see that true evil does live amongst them. This is no longer a children's tale, but nothing more than their own personal nightmare.

**District Seven female tribute – Age sixteen - Ayla Treleve's point of view**

My feet carry me along the dusty trail I follow. Bones snag at me, and I jump to dodge them. My brown hair billows around me as I feel my lungs tighten in my chest. I'm tired; tired and poor and without anything. My partner, Alexander was supposed to be the one to gather the supplies we would need to survive. But a knife in his temple stole his and at this rate, my chances at winning. I stumble forward and find the ground collapsing beneath me and I roll down a massive cliff, into a pit of stabbing bones.

They tug and snare at my flesh, until sweet lines of scarlet stain my once flawless skin. Jolts of pain snake their way through my body with every movement that I make. I push myself up from the ground, the bones snagging at my clothing; trying to hold me prisoner. With nimble fingers I quickly unhook myself from their grasps and struggle to make my way back towards the flat plain that stands along the horizon.

My body screams in silent agony with each movement I make, but with my mind slowly floating away from me, am I able to keep the pain at bay. I think of everything and anything that does not intertwine with this deadly reality that I am living through. I think about how the wind gently dances through the vibrant green leaves back home; I think about the way the golden colors of the sunrise reflect off my skin during the early glow of morning. I can almost see it; perhaps home isn't as far away as we perceive it to be. Maybe it all depends on how you look at the situation and not how it is clearly displayed.

I wipe my bloodied hands across my pants, as my feet come into contact with the soft earth once more. I bend down and pick up a small handful of dirt and allow the wind to carry it up along the breeze. My eyes follow the small particles that twist and bend in the wind and it is the simplicities such as this that I would miss. The beauty of nature acting as if nothing is wrong; acting as if twenty three would men and women are not going to die on its lands. I breathe out slowly, as I stand up straight once more, but it is the sound of steady feet pounding against the earth that steal me away from my dream like state.

I snap my head back only to pay witness to the disturbed girl of District Twelve sprinting towards my form. Her eyes ripple with an intense fire that screams she is here for only one reason; to spill as much blood as she possibly can. I can see the coil of rope held tightly between her clutches, while her hair splays out behind her in silky blonde waves. "It's time to finish what I started," Her soft velvety tone swirls in the air surrounding us, but burns like acid within the depths of my ears. I turn to run, but she quickly makes her ground and within moments I am crashing towards the ground under her weight.

I struggle against her hold, but with quick slender fingers Bluebell takes the coil of rope and ties it tightly around both my ankles and wrists. I look up at her with fearful eyes knowing what events are about to play out. She has been labelled as the girl who plays with fire and everything she touches seems to burn; including her victims. I can feel the sharp sting of the rope digging further into my flesh, while Bluebell slowly circles me; observing her new found prey.

She giggles softly at my struggling form, as she clutches her stuffed rabbit close to her chest. My breathing comes in short shallow gasps, as fear slowly begins to take over. She is going to finish what she started in the training hall and burn what remains. I snap my eyes closed, willing myself to drift away to a world above the clouds; that one place where I can lose myself to a world free from all the torture and pain. My breathing slowly begins to calm down while my body falls still. Soon I will be free; I just have to remain patient before the time to be free of this world is graced upon me.

The fear slowly begins to pool out of me, but it still tinges my very existence. I won't be remembered in the years to come; I'll be nothing more than another girl who would blend into the sea of faces surrounding her. Perhaps it is better that way; to not be remembered instead of being remembered and acting as a greater loss upon the world. My family will feel this loss, but they are strong and will see that maybe I was lucky enough to make it to a better place.

"What are your final thoughts before I steal your life away?" Bluebell asks me in a tone that drips in an innocence that a child would possess.

"Soon I will be free, but you will still be trapped by the bonds of this world," I say back to her calmly. A small frown etches its way across her lips, as she removes a match from the confinements of one of the pockets that line her arena jacket. She rolls it between her fingers before she leans down next to me. She strikes the match across the ground so it causes a ghostly faint shadow to be cast across her features.

"I am not trapped; I have never been more free then before now," She whispers in a haunting tone that causes chills to rivet their way down my spine. She brings the flame to the cloth of my jacket and slowly the heat begins to eat away at the fabric. Bluebell steps back to admire her work, while the burning stench of smoke begins to swirl around me. I begin to struggle once more, as the intensity of the flame only continues to grow. I was the one who was easily forgotten, but now I will be remembered as the girl who burned.

**District Twelve female tribute – Age seventeen - Bluebell Hart's point of view**

A dark smile tugs at my lips, as the flames dance higher and higher. As the warmth of the fire gets dangerously close to my skin I smirk and laugh. This reminded me of a song I once heard as a child. Fire, fire burning higher; making music like a choir. Because, at the moment, the sound of bubbling flesh, screaming, and roaring fire was the best music to me. A sweet lullaby is the harmonious tone of Ayla's tortured screams to me; gentle enough to lull me into a slumber tinged state, but instead my wide crystal clear eyes stay transfixed on the melting corpse before me.

Slowly the flames consume her form whole, until the only thing that can be seen is the twisted blend of colors dancing in the breeze. It's beautiful in my eyes; the way the different shades or red, orange and yellow intertwine into each other. I can feel their heat lick at my flesh and this only causes the dark smile that dances across my lips to grow. I clutch Mr. Fluffiness tightly against my chest, as the chocked screams of my prey are cut off; the smoke having cut off her desperate screams. Many would not understand how I can be disappointed by the simple concept that the screaming has ended so early.

I breathe in deeply, taking in the soft stench of burning flesh and ash. I take a step back from the dwindling fire before me, as the echo of a cannon goes off in the distance. Just one less pathetic tribute standing in my path, but now the real fun can begin. She was never my prime target, but just a temporary game; merely something to pass the time destroying. I mentally count down how many tributes remain; only sixteen left including myself remain as the first day of these twisted games slowly draws to a close.

The sun stretches low in the sky casting eerie shadows to dance across the land. My entire body is illuminated by the faint fire that still flickers before me, but soon it will slowly die out. I shift the small bag over that is looped around my belt that contains the few precious supplies I managed to claim as my own; a pack of matches being the one prize of beauty that I am able to now hold between my clutches.

I turn my back to the remnants of the girl, whose name shall be lost amongst the whispers of history, but behind me the blazing setting sun casts a golden light upon my form; creating the effect that I myself am burning. I find myself pondering what the entire sensation of having fire lick at your entire being would feel like. Perhaps one day I would find out, but not until I claimed the prey that was rightfully mine. I begin to walk with delicate footsteps back towards where I'm sure the careers have decided to camp out for the reminder of their stay in this sweet taste of hell. For tonight I will observe them; to watch them with never closing eyes.

To know your prey is when you will be granted an edge many will seek after with much desire. My plans had to be altered once Theo changed the course I had already had set out for him, but none the less his life will still become my own. I make my way over the dusted rolling hills and in the distance the faint gleaming light of the cornucopia can be seen shooting into the sky. I slow my breathing down to an almost inhuman level, while with quick footed steps I make my way towards the small slope. With each step I take the droning sound of the careers grows louder; I was correct about where they would chose to reside.

I carefully lay myself down along the earth, allowing the bleak dust to cling to my skin. I carefully peer over the gentle curve of the hill, being careful to make sure they cannot notice the small girl watching their every move. "Tonight we hunt and take out our biggest threats," The dominate voice of Theo draws my attention, but a twisted smile graces my lips at his words. If only he knew his greatest threat was closer than he will ever realize.

My eyes follow his every move, as he gathers the supplies he will need to carry out the hunt each career eagerly waits for. Soon the fact that he has become the hunted instead of the hunter will become known. I lick my lips hungrily, but I know I must be patient. This is what differentiates myself from the careers. We all want to have our hands stained by the life of another, but I am more careful about the path I choose. I will not act rashly in the hopes I will be able to claim a life as my own as many other careers would, but I will wait patiently until the moment is right.

They would always believe that time was against them, but if used correctly it could act as a great ally. I will use time to my advantage by allowing them to lull themselves into a false sense of security. To allow them to believe they are in control of these Games, but in essence they are nothing more than my puppets. They shall take out the competition for me without even knowing. A cruel smile dances across my lips, as I realize how much control I really have, but this fact is known to only myself.

As the darkness of night begins to wash over the arena in icy waves do I slip away into the pending inky black of the night. They will never know I was there; watching them prepare for their own twisted games, but I have bigger things at play in this moment. I walk along the now darkened hills in search of shelter for the night, but the tortured screams of my first kill continues to ring with insanity through the depths of my mind. It is this horrific scream that will lull me to sleep with its soothing tones.

My eyes glisten with the fires that I have created, while my lips curve into an innocent smile. Let all of Panem look upon the girl that is capable of so much more than they ever thought. When you base your opinions on expectations alone you will find they will surely crumble. I am not a weak little girl from District Twelve, but I am the fire that will burn all that crosses its path.

**List of tributes that are still alive :3**

District One - Phoenix 'Foe' Sterling

District One – Dapar Radsha

District Two – Kenzi Rodgers

District Two - Morgan Scott

District Three – Kallina Censura

District Four – Vencitiy Corbinette

District Four- Theo Macdonald

District Five – Alexia Tide

District Five – Pike Rivers

District Six – Nelira 'Nel' Blue

District Six – Collin Wrathers

District Eight – Rylinn Abrith

District Nine- Astoria Delacorte

District Ten – Buck Wolfe

District Eleven – Hadley June Chevalier

District Twelve – Bluebell Hart

**You should all run Nika is free! 0-0**

**Anyways I have a poll on my profile for which tribute do you want to be bestowed with the honor of victor so you should all go vote ;D**

**Hopefully I'll have the next update up soon, but until then here is your sponsor question.**

**What is president Coin's first name?**

**The first to answer correctly will receive six sponsor points and the next three to answer correctly will receive four sponsor points!**


	25. The Blood Of The Wicked: Night One

**The answer to my previous trivia question was: Alma.**

**The receivers of those points were Fleur-WickedWitchOfBeauxbatons who answered first and got six sponsor points. The following three each received four sponsor points: i-am-foxface, QueenOfSwordsAndFire and The epic bookworm.**

**District Three female tribute – Age sixteen – Kallina "Kalli" Censura's point of view**

I watch silently within the darkened shadows that the dead twisted branches offer me. From my vantage point hidden behind the rough surface of the trees that act as my allies, I am able to take in the sight of my prey. No longer is Morgan the hunter, but he has now become the hunted and I am the predator. I have been swiftly and silently following him for several hours, until the dark caressing light of twilight was graced upon the arena.

My deep emerald eyes cut through the darkness and take in my surroundings. The large pale moon hangs low in the sky, casting eerie shadows along the plain. This paling light appears to sprout a dark twisted life into every aspect of the arena. Not far from where I stand I can make out the hazy shadow of another tribute, but I know this figure is Morgan. He continues to whip his head back and forth searching for something that will not present itself until the right moment, but it is the daunting question of when will the hourglass fall empty that has caused an unsettling feeling to wash over him.

I quickly readjust the dark blue backpack that is slung over my shoulders and gently run my fingers over the small collection of slender curved knives I was able to claim as my own, which line the inside of my arena jacket. Slipping away within the chaos that danced in a deadly harmony with confusion during the bloodbath came as natural as breathing. I was able to fade away without any crimson stained to my flesh, but that is soon about to change. This boy before me, who I follow silently is going to die by my hands; he is going to suffer before I allow him to slip through the cracks into an eternal slumber. Images slowly flicker across the surface of my eyes; images of each and every Games I have watched, but now it is my turn to play. I have seen insanity at its finest; I have seen betrayal in its prime. I have paid witness to tributes carrying out the revenge they have sought after with much desire and now it is my turn to do just that.

I must be swift in my judgments, as I know claiming his life as my own won't be as easy as I would want it to be, but where would be the entertainment if he fell without a fight? Morgan easily towers over me and with his blade held tightly between his clutches I know he will be able to wield it with the upmost skill. Not underestimating the enemy is the first step in the right direction one must take towards victory.

My slender fingers wrap their way around the hilt of a blade that curves into a wicked smile, which longs to be dripping in scarlet. Images continue to rapidly dissolve in and out of my line of vision. The image of a boy strangling his District partner cutting her off from the elixir of life, until her face is flushed in a grotesque purple dances across my vision. Betrayal; this is why I chose to work alone. An image of a young girl luring her alliance into a complicated network of traps that swiftly beheads them, following their departure from this world she slowly licks their crimson stained flesh clean, until her lips drip in scarlet ripples across my mind. Insanity; something that in reality we all possess. Lastly an image of a girl with dark red hair stalking her prey sprouts into view, but I know this girl is me. Revenge; a deadly toxin that will run more than one life into the ground.

My feet begin to carry me across the dusted terrain, appearing to barely come into contact with the soft earth below. I slow my breathing to almost a complete stop, the steady rhythm of my heart being the only sound that can be heard. Morgan continues to walk forward, unknown to the presence lurking behind him. He has been walking for hours without stopping once, but where it is he is going is something that I will never learn, as his life will be cut off before he can reach his final salvation. I raise the blade above me so it glistens menacingly in the paling light of the moon, but this is when I sense something is wrong. Morgan stops dead in his tracks and everything in this lifeless world feels as if it has been dragged down to a complete stop.

Before I can carry out any further actions Morgan whips around, his fist connecting with my jaw. I crumble down towards the earth, as pain vibrates through my jaw. This simple ounce of pain only fuels the burning hatred that has rooted itself to my core. "I should have suspected that it would be the little girl who has it out for the careers who has been sadly attempting to follow me," Morgan looks down at me with a scowl playing across his features. My lips curve up in a twisted smile at his words, as he brings the lightly scarlet stained blade to my throat. "So you're going to slit my throat? How unoriginal for a career; I always thought District Two tributes were notorious for violence," My words are meant to work their way under his skin, buying me as much time as they possibly can.

His scowl remains prominent across his features, as he allows his blade to clatter to the ground. Before I can react to his lack in judgment by allowing himself to release his hold on the one weapon that could allow him to hold onto his life does he swiftly begin to wrap his hands around my throat. I kick out my legs desperately, as he lifts my slender body off the ground, slamming me into the rough surface of a tree. The impact sends loud creaks of protest tearing through the air, his dull eyes boring into my own bright green eyes. What shimmers across both of their surfaces contrast in so many ways. His eyes gleam with a fire to become the hunter once more, while my eyes glisten with a hatred to destroy the one who is closest linked with the early demise of my sister. "There's the violence all of Panem wants to see," I choke out these words in a taunting tone and in response he tightens his hold on me.

I can feel the air being forced out of my lungs, my vision slowly beginning to become nothing more than twisted swirls of colors that don't register into my mind. My eyes begin to fall close, but this is when I use the last shreds of the reservations of strength that I hold onto desperately. I will not fall so early in these Games; not here and not now. I lock my eyes with his and the steely determination that rips through their core is enough to send the correct message; I am not dying by his hands. I bring my knee so it comes into contact with Morgan's stomach, with enough force to knock the air out of his lungs. He loosens his hold around my neck, as a gasp of pain escapes his lips. In these few vital moments I am able to slip free from his grasps and fall back towards the earth. Dust swirls around in the air, as I desperately crawl towards that one weapon Morgan was foolish enough to discard.

My hands brush across the cool steel, but in this moment I feel Morgan's hands knot their way into my hair. A hiss of pain escapes my lips, but as he tears me up from the ground my hand works its way around the hilt of his sword. I quickly spin around connecting the hilt of the sword with the soft flesh of his temple. The contact of metal colliding with bone sends a sickening crack tearing through the air. Morgan lets out a chocked breath before he topples to the ground, a small pool of blood dripping out of the corner of her mouth. I throw the sword back down on the ground and wait if only for a few single seconds.

His cannon doesn't announce its presence, as I watch his chest elevate then fall in a steady rhythm. This causes a small twisted smile to spread its way across my lips. He is still alive, but now it is time to play. I know I must work swiftly in my actions before his eyes snap open, thrusting him back into his reality once more. I ignore the pain that pin pricks a few locations on my body, as I loop my arms around Morgan and drag him across the earth, leaving him slouched up against the rough bark of a tree. I study him for a moment, walking around his quiet form, observing him from every angle possible. They tortured my sister to death, but now it was their turn to suffer. No, act of crime should go unpunished, but in this moment I failed to see that I was sinking down to their level.

I could not see that I was turning into a girl that was no better than those who stole away my sister's life. They tortured her, forcing as many tortured screams from her lungs as they possibly could, but now I was following in their footsteps. I had different reasons for the actions I am about to carry out, but the blood that will be stained to my flesh will be no different than the blood that was stained to their hands. I want to make him suffer, but why can't I see that my lust for revenge has won over me? I wasn't always this way, but people change. They change for the better or for the worse. In my case I believed I had changed for the better; I had become stronger and no one could hurt me, but this was nothing more than a lie I would repeat to myself in hushed whispers.

I remove two larger knives from within the hidden depths of my jacket and kneel down in front of Morgan. I trace the steely tip across his lips, relishing in the moment they begin to quiver. Even the strong are weak. The moment his eyes begin to flutter open is when I take a hold of his wrists and firmly pin them back against the bark of the tree. Before he can fully register what is happening I stake both knives through the flesh of his hands; nailing him to the tree. Blood instantly pools across his flesh, staining everything in its path. A twisted howl of pain escapes his lips, but this does not stop me from what must happen next. I remove another pair of knives from my jacket and walk down to where his legs thrash wildly. I quickly kneel down next to him, plunging the knives through both of his feet, pinning him to the ground. I watch with startled fascination at what it is I have done; I have successfully trapped a career, one of the biggest threats that once stalked this arena, but no longer is he a threat to any of us. He is now nothing more than a fly stuck in my cruel web.

His body twitches unnaturally, as howls of pain that blends in a deadly harmony with anger continuously escapes his lips. "When I get out of this you are mine," His eyes burn with a fiery hatred, but the fear is still there. He struggles to remove himself from my knives steely hold, but his body remains pinned in place. I say nothing, as I remove a single dainty knife from my boot. It appears almost fragile; something that wouldn't be able to cause such destruction. I sit down next to Morgan and I can feel his eyes boring into me, but my mind is elsewhere. I can see her; my sister the way I remember her before she was reaped. Her long light red hair billows around her in silky waves, as she begs me not to carry this through. "I'm sorry Alyissa, but this is something I have to do," I whisper quietly to myself.

I begin my work by cutting away his jacket, leaving as much flesh exposed as possible. In a matter of moments the tattered remains of his jacket and shirt lay discarded by my side, while his flawless flesh is exposed for all to see. I flip the dainty knife between my fingers, Morgan's eyes carefully watching my every move. He is in pain this much is clear, but he is now fighting to regain control over his body. I run the pointed tip of my blade along his arms, causing soft tendrils of shivers to rivet their way down his spine. He tears his eyes away from me; already knowing what it is that is about to happen.

The first cut is the most difficult, but once I move past that point the torture that is to follow shall come naturally. I bite my lip the moment I feel my blade dig into his soft flesh, causing a soft wince to escape his lips. He doesn't want to show pain, but soon he won't have any choice. I long to hear him scream, to witness the tears snake their way down his flesh, to watch the light leave his eyes. I increase the pressure of my blade against his flesh until his skin slides cleanly away from his body. He struggles against my hold, but my blades rooted into his body hold him as their prisoner. My hands begin to move fluidly removing the flesh from his left arm. His screams slowly begin to increase in volume, but this only propels me forward; forward into bringing pain to a whole new level, a level no one would want graced upon them.

Morgan's screams echo within the depths of my ears, as my hands slowly begin to become stained in deep crimson. Fragments of his skin that was once attached to his arm lay discarded at my feet, as my blade begins to act on its own accord. I am not fully present in this moment, as my knife continues to skin this boy before me. I don't question what it is I am doing because I am not able to fully comprehend what it is I am carrying out. My blade continues to slice away at his flesh, leaving madness and tortured screams in its wake. Morgan arches his back the moment my blade removes a large piece of flesh along his chest, his blood curdling screams ringing with madness throughout the entire arena. I know they will all be able to hear; every tribute will fall into a restless sleep with the screams of a tortured boy clinging onto the final shreds of his life ringing through their ears.

I do not stop until most of the skin from his torso and arms has been removed; leaving him as nothing more than a pathetic mess of blood at my feet. Morgan has been reduced to making desperate whimpering noises at this point, as he looks up at me searching my eyes for any shred of mercy, but what is eyes find is nothing, but my lust for revenge slowly being fulfilled.

"Have you had enough yet?" I ask him with a cruel smile tugging at my lips. He doesn't answer me and in response to his disrespect to the one that holds his life in her hands I dig my fingertips into his now exposed flesh. He howls in pain once more, as my eyes sweep over what it is I have done. His upper torso has been turned into a fleshy pink color, as the skin that once covered him is no longer present. Crimson streaks his entire body, as he fights to stay conscious.

I sit down next to him, feeling my body sink down slightly into the scarlet stained earth. Perhaps I will sink through it all, to be lost within a world of nightmares for the remainder of my life. I roughly wrap my hand around his chin, forcing him to look at me. "Do you want to know why I am doing this Morgan?" I ask in an almost taunting manner.

"Does the why really matter?" He says weakly, but that edge to his tone is still present. I narrow my eyes at him in response to his words, as I gently trace my delicate knife along his features; the flesh of his face being my final canvas. "The careers are always the ones who get all the attention; the ones who get all the kills, but I am changing that. A few years ago a career took someone important away from me and now I'm just returning the favour. They tortured her and now I'm doing the same. They stole away her sight from her so she could no longer pay witness to the few shreds of beauty this world still possesses," My tone is daunting, as I bring my blade up to his eye. His pupils dilate, looking around wildly from within its socket. I dig my blade just underneath his eyelid, forcing my blade into the hollows of his socket. His screams reach an ear piercing level, as I smoothly cut out his eye. His eyes fall shut as blood gushes from his new wound, as if it were nothing more than a scarlet waterfall.

Morgan's breathing becomes shallow, his lips tremble, almost as if he is praying. I cannot make out the words that spill from his lips, but I know when humanity is faced with death they will always plead for redemption. I absentmindedly roll his eye between my fingertips, not reregistering how grotesque its glassy surface feels against my palm. "They stole away her final breath Morgan and now I am stealing away yours," Tortured angered rings through my voice, as I force the ruby tinted point of my blade down his throat. A final strangled scream escapes Morgan's lips, as the inside of his throat is torn open. I pull my knife back, causing deep crimson to sprout from his lips with each breath he struggles to take. His body twitches violently while he drowns in his own blood. The blood of the innocent is now stained across my flesh.

Suddenly the violent twitching comes to a screeching halt and his body falls still. Moments later I hear his cannon ring through the distance; symbolizing one less career roaming these barren wastelands. I turn away from his ravished body, as I am now fighting back waves of nausea. It is here that I realize I am no better than the careers that I have vowed to silence. I shakily wipe my blade off along my jacket, staining blood that is not my own to my clothing.

I hold my head high, as I look up into the night sky. The wind plays through my hair causing my hair to billow around me in fiery waves. I am here for revenge and revenge alone and no petty feelings of remorse are going to stop me from achieving that. The blood of the innocent will run dry along these hallowed grounds, as the blood of the accused and tormented is stained to the flesh of another. This has never been or will ever be just a game.

**List of tributes that are still alive :3**

District One - Phoenix 'Foe' Sterling

District One – Dapar Radsha

District Two – Kenzi Rodgers

District Three – Kallina Censura

District Four – Vencitiy Corbinette

District Four- Theo Macdonald

District Five – Alexia Tide

District Five – Pike Rivers

District Six – Nelira 'Nel' Blue

District Six – Collin Wrathers

District Eight – Rylinn Abrith

District Nine- Astoria Delacorte

District Ten – Buck Wolfe

District Eleven – Hadley June Chevalier

District Twelve – Bluebell Hart

**Well that turned out to be a little more gruesome then I first planned, but it's the Hunger Games what did you expect? ;D**

**Anyways let me know what you thought about this little game of torture!**

**And here is the sponsor question for this chapter.**

**How was Maysilee Donner killed during the 50****th**** Annual Hunger Games?**

**The first to answer correctly will receive six sponsor points and the next three to answer correctly will receive four sponsor points!**


	26. Ticking Time Bomb: Night One Continued

**The answer to my previous trivia question was: She was skewered through the neck by pink candy colored birds.**

**The receivers of those points were Munamana who answered first and got six sponsor points. The following three each received four sponsor points: i-am-foxface, TheKatieKat, and ****the epic bookworm****.**

**District Six male tribute – Age seventeen- Collin Matthew Wrathers point of view **

Tortured blood curdling screams is all that can be heard, being carried along the chilled wind. Nel and I remain huddled within the hallowed out depths of a beast deceased, but here in the silence are we forced to listen to one of our fellow tributes come face to face with the calls of death. The screams are distant, but they feel much closer than they really are in reality. I place my hands over my ears in an attempt to block them out, but still they slip through the cracks, disrupting my thoughts. I wonder who it is they belong to, but perhaps it is better if I never find out.

"Maybe they just came across a spider or a rather large bug," I say quietly, clinging onto these false hopes. I don't want to accept the reality of the situation so I will continue to paint these pictures of false truths that will make this situation easier to cope with. Yet I would soon learn that this technique would only aid me for so long.

"You keep telling yourself that Collin," Nel mutters, her blade still held tightly between her clutches until her knuckles begin to turn a ghostly shade of white. I breath out slowly, taking her words seriously and continue to softly mumble under my breath, "It's only a spider." Nel simply rolls her eyes at me, but I pay almost no notice. We have been held up in our shelter for several hours now; not having crossed a single soul in this barren wasteland, but already the competition has dwindled down in numbers, this much I am sure of. While the late afternoon sun hung low across the horizon, casting flickers of gold and orange across the land Nel and I slipped into this structure. It was Nel's suggestion and without a second thought I followed her blindly. Perhaps this is why the world sees me as hopeless, but I never was one to listen to what the rest of the world has to say. The only opinion other than my own that really matters is Nel's. Not the Capitols, not my fellow tributes, not those betting on my survival; just hers and mine alone.

After a few more moments of simply listening to the screams of the dying are they cut short, the sound of their cannon booming in the distance. "One less tribute for us to worry about," Nel mutters under her breath. One step closer to victory is the single thought we are both thinking. I lean back against the cool bone structure, stretching out my long legs, my throat parched by thirst. Already my lips have begun to dry from my body being denied the vital aspects that it needs. I have gone without before, but it is different when you know your life is hanging in the balance by only a thread. I glance towards our single backpack of supplies and know within its pockets is a water bottle full of the gleaming crystal clear fluid of water. Earlier today we found a small stream snaking its way through the land, but before I could bring the liquid to my lips Nel pulled me away by my hair, hissing about how it may be unsafe to drink. I listened to her reasoning, but that did not stop us from filling our water bottles full, that way the option of diminishing our thirst is ever present, even if it means taking the risk.

While my entire form remains calm Nel is on edge; twitching her head back at the simplest of sounds. She is far more into these Games then I ever will be, but that is just the clash in our personalities shining through. Nel realizes what is at stake in this moment while I on the other hand remained relaxed, as if we have never even left home. I want to imagine we are home, instead of in an arena built merely to keep us all trapped. I want to think about climbing up the large maple tree that looms over my home, having been there for as long as I can remember. I don't want to imagine being sent home in a box; I want to remember home being alive and full of life.

I reach down flicking a few pebbles so they bounce off of Nel's boots and in return she fixates her eyes into a glare in my direction. She is set on staying up the night, keeping watch for those who pose a threat to us, but I am simply breaking her train of concentration. The look on her face clearly reads that if I do not stop she is going to hit me, something she has done many times before, but I know she always means well by it, even if at times it actually does hurt. I flick a single pebble at her once more despite the look and in return she snatches it up, flinging it at my head, hissing for me to fall back into silence. I rub my head, my eyes tracing the smooth surface of the bone structure and I find myself wondering if they can see us in here. The answer is most likely yes, but that doesn't stop me from pulling a face, hoping the cameras can see. At the sight of me pulling faces for all of Panem to see Nel reaches over, smacking me in the back of the head. "Collin can you act mature for all of five minutes?" She asks with her usual edge to her voice. "Sorry," I whisper sheepishly, but we are both cut off by the sound of a pair of voices being carried along the breeze.

"We've been walking for hours Theo; do you really think we are going to find anyone now?" The voice of the female tribute from District Four is close, as the sound of her boots against the ground blending in harmony with her partners makes this fact clear.

"I know their out here, their just making things difficult for us by hiding," Theo almost snarls, the bloodlust practically dripping in his tone. I don't even allow myself to imagine how many tributes he has slain already so early into these games. I quickly glance towards Nel, who has edged closer to the entrance of our shelter, her knife still held tightly between her clutches. She was always reckless and self-destructive, but the look her in her eyes screams that the thoughts that are spiralling out of control in her mind are on the brink of both insanity and stupidity. Attacking two trained and equipped careers with only a simple knife to defend yourself is beyond reckless. I quickly grab Nel around the waist, dragging her back within the shadows of our shelter, clamping my hand over her mouth. She struggles against my hold slightly, but we both fall still, listening to the voices of the quickly approaching careers.

"Your just disappointed you only got one kill during the bloodbath," The girl almost coos, but as I rack my brain I cannot recall her name.

"One kill is one more than you got," Theo almost growls and the intensity of his tone causes a shiver to rivet down my spine. I would never understand what it would take for a person to become like that; to lust after the bloodshed of another. I never have and never will see the value in it, as what are they really proving? They are proving they are powerful, but at the cost of what? In my mind it would just never be worth it, no matter what the rewards could bring.

"No, need to sound so bitter, you're just angry that you let the pair from District Five get away. Well they are a little more of a challenge than that pair from District Six; I swear the boy has nothing even noteworthy in that skull of his," As these words slip free from her lips they both burst into a chorus of cold laughter. I feel Nel tense up, as they insult me, but I keep a firm hold on her, as to keep her from acting rashly. Their words don't bother me, why should they? Eventually their voices fade into the distance, until they can no longer be heard. Once we both know they are gone Nel lightly bites on my hand covering her mouth, demanding that I let her go, which I do.

She sits next to me with her arms crossed. "I could have taken then down you know," She mutters, as the Capitol anthem begins to play. I simply shake my head, as I turn my attention to the night sky. We have both survived the first day; we have both outlived the nine tributes that have already fallen. It's just one step closer, but to what exactly. If I have to lose Nel to make it home then is home even really worth it? She was always been there to pick me up when I fell; without her there would I ever be able to stand again?

**District Five female tribute – Age eighteen- Alexia "Alex" Tide's point of view**

One would believe that in this moment my mind would be lurking along the depths of despair, questioning why it was my name that was chosen to be carried out along the breeze for all to hear on that fateful day of the reapings, but instead my mind is lingering along the edges of the few shreds of positivity of the situation I continue to live through. One would also find themselves questioning what forms of positive light there could be left in this world of darkness. Many would not be able to see this side, but there are the rare few that are able to see through the anguish and the pain to the valuable aspects they still hold dear. I cannot deny the fact that a sinister presence has been imprinted upon my being, but that is not what I focus on. I do not focus on the concept that it was my name that was chosen, I do not focus on the idea that Pike is at my side, and I don't even focus on the memory of taking away the life of that boy whose name I do not even remember. What I do focus on is the fact that I am still alive.

I am still breathing, the vital parts of my being still clinging onto my humanity. That is the most valuable concept we hold onto in these games of blood, betrayal and insanity. Humanity is what is lost year after year. Growing up watching the Games you find yourself learning to be able to tell when a tribute has let their mind go; giving into the creation the Capitol craves for us to bid birth to. There is something about their eyes that changes, the life already seeming to have flickered out even though the steady rise and fall of their chest gives the illusion that they are still alive.

I find my mind falling to the memory of a victor past. He was a boy that once stood tall, a boy who was proud to call himself a career. From District One is where he was born, a place I'm sure he can no longer call his home, as after what he had turned into you find yourself pondering if home is even really worth it. The Games didn't appear to destroy him until the early morning where his District partner was slain before him. It was clear for all to see that she meant more to him than she ever should have from the beginning and it is in that moment I saw him morph into something entirely new, something born from pain and hate. Everything that stood in his path was destroyed and a path strained in crimson followed him in his wake. I find myself wondering if he had willingly changed or if it was all against his will, but the one thing that is clear is that very same change could happen to any of us remaining tributes.

I glance up at Pike who walks at a steady pace next to me, the light of the paling moon illuminating his body against the hazy stained sky. Would Pike go through those same changes if he was to watch the life leave my own eyes? The most unsettling aspect about this thought is that I would never be able to know the answer to this question. The answer would forever be lost to me, but I find myself praying that things would never come to that in the end. If I am to perish by this twisted play of fate I want Pike to hold onto his humanity, to keep a strong hold of his sanity, but year after year all of Panem has seen what the Games can do to even the strongest of wills; snapping them like nothing more than slender twigs.

I quickly push these thoughts away with a single shake of my head, focusing on the positive plays of fate. Both Pike and I escaped the crimson stained clutches of the bloodbath with minimal injuries. I was able to claim a backpack as my own that held several valuable items that will only aid us in our quest for survival; including two water bottles full of water and a thin but wickedly sharp sword. The sword can be seen glistening menacingly from the holds of Pike's belt; even if he doesn't know how to wield it with skill at least he is armed. While I on the other hand have a spear held tightly between my clutches. I claimed two as my own before I speared one through the neck of the boy whose name does not register in my mind. Our paths never crossed in the games we played before we stepped foot into the arena, but he threatened to take my Pike away from me before I am ready to lose him so his death was unavoidable. I never meant any ill feelings towards my fellow tributes, but I cannot allow myself to show any mercy; in these games mercy is what ends up in people being slain.

Pike and I have been walking for hours, with almost no sense of direction. We both know we need to find a source of water, but with a sea of inky darkness spiraling out of control before us I know the wiser decision would be to find shelter for the night. I glance up at Pike once more seeing the steely determination that is laced with looks of tiredness dancing across his features. "Pike, I think it's time we settle for the night," My voice is barely above a whisper, as my eyes sweep over the surrounding area. The land that we chose to venture down once we fled the cornucopia is a land riddled with fissures and cracks running in all directions through the ground. Some are deeper than others, with seemingly no end, but there are others that could easily be climbed down to be offered to us as shelter. Pike nods simply and as if reading my thoughts; he cautiously approaches a rivet that runs through the ground, dropping to his knees to get a better look. "The ledge isn't far down at all, but no one would be able to find us unless they were specifically looking," With those hushed words hanging in the air he gently takes a hold of my hands helping me down, only moments later sliding down to land next to me.

Our new surroundings are simple, nothing but the solid earth holding us in, nothing more than a simple drop from the rest of the world above us. Small crevices are all these are, to add another level to these Games. Anything could be lurking down here in the dark, but never once does that thought ripple across my mind. I slide down the wall, setting down my weapon and supplies next to me, but leave them so they are still only a fingers grasp away from me. I watch Pike, as he warily takes in our surroundings, his guard still up. I reach up, taking his hand and pull him down next to me. It is only in this moment does my body really register just how cold the night has become, as gooseflesh has begun to pin prick its way across my skin. I continuously remind myself that it is only the cold and as much discomfort as it could bring it could also be a lot worse.

When Pike is finally settled down next to me I don't release my hold on his hand, but instead I simply intertwine our fingers. A simple symbol of unity is what our bonded hands are, but to the pair of us it means so much more. Pike glances down at our hands, but he goes not pull his hand away from my own, which causes a small faint smile to dance across my lips. We are safe for the night as far as we are both convinced and we are still together and there is nothing in this wasteland that shall take that away from me. "I wonder if the cameras can see us down here," I wonder out loud after a few moments.

"I wouldn't be surprised if they could," Pike opens his mouth to say something else, but is cut off by the Capitol anthem. The first day of this year's Hunger Games is being brought to a close and it has now fallen to the time where the fallen who were not able to hold onto their lives to be shown for all to see. We both fall silent as peering through the cracks stretching above us are we able to make out the features of the diseased. The first face to appear in the sky is one I did not expect to see so soon. The dull blue eyes of the boy from District Two peer through the night sky and I find myself wondering just how he had met his end. I paid witness to him slaying another girl during the bloodbath with no remorse reflected in the surface of his eyes, but someone or something got to him. There is a part of me that is glad there is one less career to look out for, but with my humanity still intact I know there is nothing right in taking pleasure in the death of another; even if they must fall for either Pike or myself to return home. Some may find it odd that I don't celebrate the fact that there are less tributes standing in our way of returning home, but instead I find myself thanking whoever it is who could be possibly be listening that they are now free. His features slowly dissolve, giving way to the image of the boy of District Three. I watch with startled fascination as the features continue to change until they come to a face that is familiar to me. The moment the image of the boy from District Nine comes into view Pike gives my hand a light squeeze, this action of simplicity is enough to keep me grounded.

The moment the sky goes blank once more I rest my head against Pike's shoulder, taking in all the warmth his body has to offer. "Pike can I ask you something?" I say after a few moments of silence, sounding like a ghost of a whisper. He simply nods once, waiting for me to ask a far more complex question then one would first expect me to ask. "What do you think it's like? To die," This is a question I had been continuously asking myself as of late. There is no way to know until death knocks on your door, but it is not uncommon to wonder.

"I want to imagine that it's like falling asleep; simple and effortless, perhaps even peaceful," I take a moment to allow his words to sink in, but instead of allowing any words to slip free from my lips in response I simply close my eyes. I want to ask, but what if one can never sleep, but I don't want to trouble either of our minds with these questions, as there are already enough elements at play in our lives in this moment. His words as simple as falling asleep continue to dance across my mind, as I find myself edging closer to the brink of slumber. Tucked away in this shallow crevice for the night we are safe, protected from those who want to claim our lives as their own, but little would either of us know that this form of shelter would soon prove to be a greater threat. We would not notice how the cracks continue to dance across the land, increasing in multitude and depth. We wouldn't know of their plan to swallow this land whole until the time was right, but in this moment as I drift to sleep in Pike's arms the only thought that drifts across my mind is how do I tell him those few choice words before it is too late?

**District One male tribute – Age seventeen - Dapar Radsha's point of view**

I count each of the faces that appear in the sky on my fingers; nine in total, one of those faces including Morgan, the one career who strayed away from the pack earlier then would seem wise. Foe and I are the only ones left at the camp, as both Vencitiy and Theo left to carry out the hunt for the rest of the competition. While they were off we listened to the screams that came from the direction Morgan disappeared to. Both Foe and I came to the conclusion that those screams belonged to him and his face being shown clearly in the sky only justifies that. I sit on top of one of the small crates filled with supplies meant for our taking, while Foe leans against the cornucopia, calmly flipping her knife between her slender fingers.

"Nine isn't bad for the first day, but we could have done better," Foe says coolly, her sharp tone cutting through the still night air. Although she does have a point, as Games before our own there have been times where over half the competition fell before they even got the chance to see the second day, but there have also been Games where most of the tributes were able to live past the nightfall of the first day; merely prolonging the moment where twenty three of us are to die. I simply shrug, stretching my arms high above my head, glad that I am still one of the live contenders in these Games.

"Just be glad that it isn't less than that," Foe shoots me a sharp look before she carries out cleaning the dirt beneath her nails out using her knife. With the settling night falling down upon us Theo and Vencitiy left a while ago, deciding two of us should remain behind. In my opinion that is the first wise decision Theo has made as our leader. We don't know who could be lurking in the shadows, waiting for the moment to claim our supplies as their own.

"I think making sure someone kept watch is the first smart decision Theo has made since he made himself the leader of our alliance," I voice my thoughts out loud and Foe simply rolls her eyes in response. "He really is a moron and I can't wait until we split from them. Won't they both be surprised when one night we are gone with as many supplies as we can carry; I was even thinking of a little goodbye present we could leave for them," A sly smile tugs at Foe's lips, as she walks over to sit next to me. Our plan had always been simple; we would play the role of going along with the rest of the careers that stood by our side, but once the pressure became too much we would slip away during the cover of nightfall, taking the supplies we needed with us. Foe and I argued about slitting the throats of our fellow slumbering careers, but Foe talked me out of that idea for the simple reason that she believes it won't be as simple as that. Theo would easily be one of those careers that sleeps with one eye open at all times, with a blade held between his clutches in case a threat such as backstabbing allies were to approach his slumbering form. After Foe's explanation I decided to just go along with her; take what we needed then slip away until we are the final two. Perhaps it really is foolish that I am placing so much trust in her hands, but it will take the element of time to see if the cards I have decided to play were the right ones or not.

I glance over at Foe, that dangerous look that first drew me to her rippling across her features. "What exactly do you have in mind?" I ask, my tone dripping with curiosity. The way her eyes glimmer in the paling light makes it obvious that she has some plan to hinder our fellow careers that we soon plan on leaving behind. "What is it that always gives us an edge compared to the rest of the careers?" She asks me and I scratch my head trying to come up with an answer. "The fact that we know how to fight while the rest of the tributes barely have a clue?" Instead of simply stating this, my words are carried along the words of a question and the way Foe rolls her eyes at me I know my response is wrong.

"You really are clueless sometime Dapar, you're lucky you at least have some skills that are useful to me. The reason careers are able to last longer than the rest is because we have supplies; without them most of us would die off quickly," I nod my head in understanding, the pieces beginning to slowly fall into place. She wants to somehow foil the remaining supplies, after we take what he need, greatly hindering the District Four pair. I open my mouth to question how exactly she plans to do this, but Foe quickly hushes me when the voices of Vencitiy and Theo enter our ears, being carried along the breeze. "Just keep your mouth shut about this and we might be able to get away with it," Foe hisses before she stands up to lean against the cornucopia once more. I look up at the returning pair and both of them appear to be on edge. "Just what I want to deal with," I mutter beneath my breath.

"Your weapons look awfully clean," Foe says with a slight smirk tugging at her lips, but in a moment Theo is standing in front of her, bringing his axe down upon the cornucopia right next to her head so sparks are sent shooting through the darkened air. Both Vencitiy and I remain still, watching this scene play out, but Foe doesn't even flinch at Theo's violent actions. "You know you're really not as intimidating as the rest of the competition and Panem seem to think," Foe says coolly, keeping her form calm; even if all of Panem knows she would take great pleasure in sinking her blade into his flesh.

"Don't test me One, otherwise I might just dispose of you sooner rather than later," Theo says through his teeth before he walks over to the fire that crackles in the night air. "Boys," I hear Vencitiy mutter under her breath, which causes a soft chuckle to escape my lips. Foe does not appear bothered by the threats that were uttered to her and I could care less about their useless fighting. To the rest of Panem this alliance may seem almost useless; a ticking time bomb to be exact, just waiting for the right moment before it goes off. I'm just hoping that if it does go off I will not be one of the causalities that fall because of it.

**List of tributes that are still alive :3**

District One - Phoenix 'Foe' Sterling

District One – Dapar Radsha

District Two – Kenzi Rodgers

District Three – Kallina Censura

District Four – Vencitiy Corbinette

District Four- Theo Macdonald

District Five – Alexia Tide

District Five – Pike Rivers

District Six – Nelira 'Nel' Blue

District Six – Collin Wrathers

District Eight – Rylinn Abrith

District Nine- Astoria Delacorte

District Ten – Buck Wolfe

District Eleven – Hadley June Chevalier

District Twelve – Bluebell Hart

**Nope, no deaths in this chapter just getting caught up with some of the tributes so you know where they are, but I'll make up for the lack of deaths in this chapter in the next ;)**

**Anyways to all my lovely readers make sure you review and here in the sponsor question for this chapter :3**

**What color is Prim's cat Buttercup?**

**Make sure you are specific about your answer.**

**The first to answer correctly will receive six sponsor points and the next three to answer correctly will receive four sponsor points!**


	27. We Cry Only Blood: Day Three

**The answer to my previous trivia question was: Muddy yellow.**

**The receivers of those points were QueenOfSwordsAndFire who answered first and got six sponsor points. The following three each received four sponsor points: KingWolf111, Munamana and The epic bookworm.**

**District Four female tribute – Age seventeen - Vencitiy Corbinette's point of view**

The scorching feel of the sun soaks into the flesh of my face, but it is that heat that gives me a glimpse of home. I am quickly reminded of the days lying stretched out on the beach, allowing my flesh to soak up the warmth the sun has to offer. With my eyes closed I can almost hear the waves caressing the beach and feel the sand between my toes, but when I open my eyes that is not what greets my vision. Instead I am looking up into the bleak colorless sky of the arena, lightened by the early morning sun. By the haze that seems to still blanket our camp one can tell it is still fairly early in the day, but here I remain laying on my sleeping bag, something many would see as a luxury in these Games, but being a career it is what I deserve. I can hear the soft sounds of slumbered breathing, but I can feel eyes watching my every movement; someone is awake.

I prop myself up on my elbows and by the fire I can see Theo sitting there, alert with his axe held tightly between his clutches. I roll my eyes at this sight, as from day one he has barely slept and it is beginning to show in his features. He doesn't trust any of us he has made that clear, but trust is a two way street and the rest of our alliance would have to be blind or lack intelligence to want to place their trust in him. Yet with him he is easy to play, to use his bloodlust and thirst for power against him. He watches me with unmoving lips, as I sit up, but goes back to absentmindedly cleaning his already flawless weapon. It is now day three and not a drop of blood has been spilt since these Games started and we are all aware that the Capitol must be growing impatient; something no one ever wants to happen. We have all grown up with the Games and we know when they grow impatient, especially this early into the Games they will take it out on anyone; even the strongest of us.

I push a few strands of lose hair away from my face, still awaking from my slumber, but it is here on the third day of these Games I so badly wanted to be a part of the realization of everything has begun to settle down on me, but I quickly push those thoughts away. I will not let them get to me; these Games are still meant to be easy for me. Just a few more days; allow the rest of them to do my dirty work then I can return to the comfort of my own home. With Foe and Dapar still peacefully sleeping I stand up, walking over to the still lightly glowing fire to sit across from Theo. Neither of us speaks, but the tension hanging in the air has grown so thick one could easily cut it with a knife, but the look in Theo's eyes screams that is not the only thing he wants to cut.

I get lost in my own spiteful world of arrogance, as I gently brush my fingers through the ash that outlines the smoldering fire. The faint greys stain my fingertips and I brush this across my eyelids, creating the effect of a smoky eye. Theo looks at me in question and I simply answer his unspoken words. "We are on television you know; besides I want to look my best so I can show my sponsors I am an appealing tribute they would want to see win," My voice is laced with arrogance, but in my mind my words hold some sense. I am here for the entire world to see and despite the situation I must look my best; I need to win over sponsors, but most of the difficult work will be left to my mentor and he had better not fail me. Theo scoffs at my words, but says nothing else, allowing the silence to engulf us once more. "Do you miss home?" I ask Theo after a few moments, not being able to sit through this dreaded silence any longer.

"Why would I bother missing District Four? I'll be back there soon enough; have you not had a good look at the rest of the competition? There is only one tribute here who is even fit to be the victor and that would be me," His voice is laced with more arrogance than I thought possible. "And people think I'm arrogant," I mutter under my breath.

"Isn't it a little early for you two to be arguing already?" Dapar says, as he sits down next to me, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "We weren't arguing," I begin to say, but I am cut off by the cool tone of Foe. "They weren't arguing she says; is there really a difference between fighting and arguing?" I shrug lightly, as I remove my knife from my boot, absentmindedly running my fingertips over the sharp tipped blade. I stand up suddenly, walking over to our supplies, slinging my bag from the previous days over my shoulders. If Theo thinks he is the only one who has what it takes to be crowned victor then it is time I proved him wrong.

"Where do you think you're going?" Theo asks me with a raised eyebrow, acting as if he really does control each and every one of our actions. "Hunting," I say with a simple shrug of my shoulders. As my words slip off my lips, Foe is on her feet, supplies already in hand. "I'm coming with you, besides I'm sure our all mighty leader doesn't trust Dapar and I guarding the camp alone even if we got away with it the other night," Her tone is laced in sarcasm, as she rolls her eyes. In a matter of moments Foe and I disappear over the gentle slopes, leading towards the flat plain land, spotted with bone structures and withering trees in the distance.

Several hours seem to span out before us, while only a few words are passed between Foe and myself. Neither of us likes each other so neither of us sees the point in pretending. I much would have preferred to carry out this hunt of my own, as I want to prove to all of Panem that I am more than just a pretty face, but if worse comes to worse I could always simply use Foe as a human shield; throwing her to any on coming threats without a second thought. My eyes glaze over our surroundings, taking in the steep hills that roll in and out of the land, the dry cracks that run in criss-cross patterns throughout the earth, the dying trees and carcasses of bones dotting the land, the sheer cliffs that can be seen looming in the horizon, trapping us in. Everything about this landscape can act as a shelter, hiding grounds for those we must hunt down. The arena is silent and all that can be heard in the gentle sound of water flowing freely. Foe and I exchange a look as this sound enters our ears, knowing full well a water source is the best bet in finding our fellow tributes.

We continue to walk up a small slope until a small stream can be seen snaking its way through the terrain and in the distance is when we see them; two shadowy figures bent down next to the water, unknown to the threatening presence closing in on them. To take them out now would mean two less people standing in my way until I can return home, but both Foe and I are blinded by the greater threat hiding at bay. Careers have always been blinded by the targets ahead of them, unaware to the full picture, something both Foe and I are now guilty of. With stealth we begin to approach our targets, their soft voices beginning to reach our ears. Yet as my eyes fell upon them there is still that uneasiness tugging at the back of mind, screaming at me about how wrong this all is and how there is no glory in wanting to willingly be a part of this. I know this is no time to be listening to my conscious, but that does not silence the thoughts that roll in and out of my mind. I quickly pinch my wrist, snapping my mind back into focus.

They remain unknown to our presence, but that won't be lasting for much longer than a few feeble moments. Yet it would be the moment where all of our attention was drawn to the toxic fog that had begun to haze across the ground that would be the real entertainment in the bloodshed that was about to soon fall into place.

**District Ten male tribute – Age eighteen - Buck Wolfe's point of view**

We collapse by the streams murky shore, both Rylinn and I for a single moment forgetting exactly where it is we are. We are both weak from going on with only the little water we salvaged from the cornucopia three days going, which has now run dry, but now in this moment we quench our parched lips, not even thinking about the dangers this water could hold. We remain quiet, drinking heavily from the stream until our bodies can't hold anymore. I cast my gaze upwards, towards the late afternoon sun, the sound of Rylinn filling up our water bottles being the only thing that can be heard. Most would be sprung to a mode of alert by the seemingly eerie calm of the arena, but that is a concept that simply passes me by.

I bring my gaze back down to this world, my eyes taking in Rylinn who absentmindedly runs her fingers through the cool water, but her entire form appears restless. She has been this way since day one, after her outburst of rebellious nature. I had expected the Gamemakers to shoot her down as soon as those words of defiance slipped free from her lips, but instead everything remained quiet. I didn't understand, but by the way we have been unable to find much to sustain us in way of nourishment just proves they are most likely slowly trying to kill us. Maybe alliancing myself with this self-destructive girl is what will lead me to my downfall, but that is only if I stick by her side long enough for that to happen.

"We should probably keep moving," Rylinn says after the minutes that have begun to drag out before us, making it obvious that she is the leader in this alliance of ours, something that really does not both me, even if her decisions constantly seem to be clouded by her hate towards something I don't quite understand. I remain quiet for a moment, listening to my gut feeling about where it is we should go exactly. Sticking close to the stream would be the wisest decision, but it would also make us prime targets to predators or our fellow tributes. "I say we stick to following the stream, it's our best bet of survival and it's not like the Gamemakers can just take it away from us," Rylinn says with a slight edge to her voice, hinting at the frustration that being unable to find life in this arena to help us live has caused her. She knows the costly consequences her words could have, yet she doesn't care, but I do.

A frown begins to play across my lips, as the realization that someone needs to make Rylinn see some sense begins to dawn on me. "The Gamemakers can do whatever it is they want Rylinn, and you know that," I say simply, causing a faint scowl to dance across her features in return.

"No, they can't, we have some control-," At these words is where I cut her off. "You're not in control. They are in control, and if you think you're in control, then you're being an idiot," As these words hang in the air I know our alliance is about to come to an end. The way I am challenging her does not sit well with Rylinn, this much is obvious, but she knows my words hold some truth. Rylinn stands up, gathering up her supplies and I do the same. She opens her mouth to say something, but she cuts herself off, reaching for her whip, which hangs loosely in her belt at the sight of something in the distance. I whip around and take in the site of two figures stealthily approaching us. "Careers," I say under my breath and my legs are moving before I even fully register what is happening.

I don't look behind me to see what Rylinn has chosen to do. Loyalty only goes so far in these Games, and from past actions I know she will try to stay and fight them, but their skills and weapons outweigh our own so I follow my instincts and begin running towards the sloping hills that offer me cover, unaware to the hazy fog that spans that area. The fog moves faster than any of us do, quickly coating the land. It only takes me a moment to realize that this fog is not natural, but man made, a Gamemakers trap and I have run straight into it. Rylinn and our oncoming threats may be able to flee away from its toxic waves that move in graceful tendrils, but for me it is too late. I followed my instincts, but in some cases those are not the wisest choice one can make.

At first I feel nothing but a small bubble of panic rising up in my chest, as I continue to run, hoping I can escape the fog's grasps, but as the haze begins to grow in intensity is when I begin to feel it, the burning sensation of my blood boiling. The more air I take in the more painful this sensation becomes. My supplies slip free from my hands, clattering to the earth, as I drop to my knees, clutching my throat. Straggled coughs begin to escape my lips, as every inch of me begins to burn. With each cough deep crimson droplets of blood begin to paint the earth, the poison of the fog wreaking havoc upon my body. My thoughts begin to run away from me, as my body slowly begins to shut down. I was caught in the crossfire of the Capitol targeting the girl who is against them, taking out any who stand in their way. I can hear the screams in the distant, as my fellow tributes scramble to reach safety, but it is in this moment that I realize the screams I am hearing are my own. A warm sensation begins to drip down my face, and as I place my hands on my cheeks I pull them back and see they are soaked in blood. For I thought I was crying and I am, but it is blood that leaks from the corners of my eyes and not tears.

I drop to the ground fully, blood leaking out of my eyes, mouth and any other part of my body that it can. The fog causes intense internal bleeding; its intentions being on making its victims suffer by slowly making them bleed to death. My body begins to shake uncontrollably, my vision stained in crimson. I'm too weak to feel any emotions as the life slowly begins to drain out of my eyes. My surface surrounding me becomes soaked in scarlet and I know the cameras will be trained on my form, my bleeding and screaming body. I want it to end; I want death to bring an end to the boiling pain that engulfs my body. Blinding misery is what slowly begins to take over me, pushing me to the brink of insanity. This is what it really feels like to have your life hanging in the balance; to be just seconds away from the eternal darkness death offers us. My hands dig into the earth, looking for any form of relief, but as the fog blankets my body I know such a thing as relief no longer exists.

My eyes finally fall close, blood being pushed out of the corners, snaking their way down my flesh, to fall to the earth in fine droplets. My screams are cut off, my body now shutting down completely. I take in one last breath, knowing it will be my last, but not knowing how long this pain had gone on for, but all I do know is that at least it shall be over soon. I wanted to live to see another sunrise; I wanted to live to see another day, but as my cannon sounds in the distant it seems that fate had another plan.

**District Eight female tribute – Age sixteen - Rylinn Abrith's point of view**

"You're not in control. They are in control, and if you think you're in control, then you're being an idiot," A scowl begins to flicker across my features at Buck's words. The Capitol is not in control of me, I am in control of everything that happens to me, but I can't escape the tugging feeling that his words may hold some truth, but it is the blatant insult that gets to me. I open my mouth to allow an insult of my own to escape my lips, but I am cut short by what my eyes fall upon looming in the distance. Two female figures are only a few feet away from us, the light catching the blades that are held between their clutches. I hear Buck say that they belong to the careers alliance before he is running. "Coward!" I shout in anger at his retreating form, frustration outlying my entire body, as he takes off with some of the supplies that I would need to survive.

My fingers wrap around the hilt of my whip, poised to strike when the time comes, but I know I am outnumbered and while I am confident in the little skills I have, the threats that these two girls are having been trained to kill since birth; something that I have not. I turn on my heels and begin to run along the stream, but there is a small part of me that hopes that they are able to catch up with me, my more reckless side beginning to shine through. I quickly cast a glance towards the direction Buck took off in, only to see the terrain heavily laced in fog, and I take in that it is only a few feet away from me. The screams that begin to echo throughout the arena alert me that the fog is not safe and I quickly dash across the stream, splaying droplets of water around me. I know the screams belong to Buck, but I don't have the time to spare to wonder about exactly what is happening to him. The pounding of my own feet against the earth blend in harmony with the quickened paces of the careers behind me in purist, but it is the sound of the blade tearing through the air that catches most of my attention.

I whip around to see the glint of the knife that was once held between the girl from District One's clutches heading straight for me. I hold up the hilt of my whip, deflecting most of the blow, but the flawless steel of the blade still catches my cheek, the warmth of my own blood beginning to pool down my face. However I don't stop running, but as the fog continues to creep forward I begin to feel weak. I hear the spluttering coughs of the enemy behind me before the sounds of their footsteps begin to fade into the distance. I watch as they both begin to run in staggered steps towards the slopes, trying to escape the toxic haze. The only thought that ripples across my mind is that I now have one less threat to be concerned about, but once I begin to cough do I know I am now in real danger. With each cough that escapes my lips deep crimson droplets fall free towards the ground. My vision begins to blur and my movements become slow, until I collapse to the ground and am reduced to crawling my way across this wasteland.

The fog begins to become thick, but I don't stop until my body is freely rolling down one of the steep slopes that cover this terrain. My body slams against the ground, the sharp edges of rocks and other debris cutting into my flesh. I land in a broken heap at the bottom, clouds of dust being kicked up into the surrounding air, but the fog has stopped its assault; it has reached its borders, but the damage is still done. I remain still for what seems like several hours, unable to move an inch, my body being assaulted by riveting coughs.

The sun begins to lower itself into the sky and by this time the coughing has ceased, but I am still bloody, injured and now alone. Unable to stand, I clutch desperately onto the remains of my few supplies and begin to drag myself towards a tree with a hollowed base that only stands a few feet away from me. Every inch of my body groans in protest with each movement I make, but I only allow myself to collapse back to the ground once I am safely hidden within the protection of the tree. The moment my body hits the ground is when I hear the cannon echoing through the arena and I know that Buck must be dead.

My eyelids begin to feel heavy and fall close without my consent. My flesh is caked in my own blood, but at least I am still breathing, at least for the time being. As the calls of slumber begin to pull me under, the memories of the moments that led me up to this begin to play out across my now closed eyelids and a feeling of familiarity begins to wash over me. It was the way I was running, running as if my life depended on it that even for the briefest of moments reminded me of home; reminding me of the days I would spend dodging the clutches of the Peacekeepers, but now there is a greater cost to pay if I am caught. I can't afford to be caught now, as I would have to pay with my life, something I am not willing or will ever be willing to give up. My life is the one thing that is mine and mine alone, and I refuse to allow anyone to freely take that away from me. As I drift off into a restless slumber my body begins to crave only one thing, control, something I now realize that I don't have.

**List of tributes that are still alive :3**

District One - Phoenix 'Foe' Sterling

District One – Dapar Radsha

District Two – Kenzi Rodgers

District Three – Kallina Censura

District Four – Vencitiy Corbinette

District Four- Theo Macdonald

District Five – Alexia Tide

District Five – Pike Rivers

District Six – Nelira 'Nel' Blue

District Six – Collin Wrathers

District Eight – Rylinn Abrith

District Nine- Astoria Delacorte

District Eleven – Hadley June Chevalier

District Twelve – Bluebell Hart

**Another day, one less tribute and I'm just one step closer to reaching the end of these Games ;D**

**Now here is your sponsor question :3**

**What is the name of the redheaded Avox that Katniss and Gale saw get captured one day while they were hunting in the woods?**

**The first to answer correctly will receive six sponsor points and the next three to answer correctly will receive four sponsor points!**


	28. Living On Borrowed Time: Day Four

**The answer to my previous trivia question was: Lavinia.**

**The receivers of those points were i-am-foxface who answered first and got six sponsor points. The following three each received four sponsor points: DonPianta, The epic bookworm and KitKat2014.**

**District Eleven female tribute – Age seventeen - Hadley June Chevalier's point of view**

Everything only really clicks in that single moment when your platform begins to rise, when your senses awaken from their slumber, when you feel more alive than you ever have before. With your adrenaline pumping you know your life is hanging in the balance, and now there is no going back, and that is one of the things that have kept me alive since I left the real world behind. I had my doubts about making it past the bloodbath, but in reality I think we all do, even the strongest amongst us. Even the most prepared tributes fall year after year, and I think personally, that is something that many of us neglect. Kenzi and I have already paid witness to the faces of a few of the more promising tributes flashing across the night sky, one of them being her District partner, but I doubt she felt any lost with his life no longer being a part of this world. My District partner on the other hand, he didn't make it past the first day. He was so young, so all I can hope now is that is soul rests in peace.

"There has to be an end to this forested area somewhere," I hear Kenzi mumble, and I instinctively turn my attention towards her. A small frown plays across my lips when I realize just how much noise she is making, almost as if she is making a point to step on every branch and piece of debris that litters the ground. It has been four days since we first fled the cornucopia, hiding ourselves away in the thick decaying woods. I thought this area would be safer, provide better coverage, which it has, but in return materials we can harvest have been sparse, and our supplies that we did manage to salvage from the cornucopia are really beginning to deplete. Water is my main focus right now, as should it be most of us tributes main target, as without it we really are nothing. Although these trees appear to be dying, if one is to peel away the bark it is clear to see that parts of them are still alive, so they must be getting their water from somewhere, and walking mostly downhill seems to be the smartest path to take for the time being.

"Forests can stretch on forever; there is no telling when we will reach the end, that is if there ever is one," I say, my lips pursed together, as I allow my thoughts to pull apart all of the possibilities that I can think of. Maybe this forest doesn't end or perhaps it will only lead us to a dead end, but one thing that is for certain is that we have become fairly lost. "Maybe we should turn around and try to make our way back towards the cornucopia," I begin to state my idea, but Kenzi swiftly cuts me off. "And walk straight into where the rest of the careers most likely have their camp set up? I don't think so," I almost cringe at the level she speaks at, and this is when I decide to call her out on it, being the ever honest one that I am. "Kenzi, will you keep your voice down? I know we haven't seen anyone since day one, but that doesn't mean that we are alone in these woods," I make a point to keep my voice hushed; Kenzi rolls her eyes in response, but at least she tries to lower her voice. "I'm just speaking the truth that is a bad idea." A quiet sigh slips free from my lips, as I think over her words. "Maybe you are right," I mumble to myself and no one else.

The pressure is high and it is easy to see that it is getting to the pair of us, even if we do try to hide it so well. We need some sort of direction, a kind of plan; I can't take this walking around blindly anymore. Being careless, walking around aimlessly, is only setting us up to become targets, and some else's next kill, and as long as I am still breathing I am not going to allow that to happen. I come to a sudden halt, leaning back against the sturdy trunk of one of the many trees available to us, allowing my eyes to fall close for the briefest of moments. I hear Kenzi stop only moments after me, and I can only guess that she has her eyes fixated into a glare pointed at me, her urge to keep moving egging her on. I knew falling into the same ranks as her would be difficult, perhaps even dangerous, what with her reckless and impulsive nature, but going into these games alone just didn't seem like an inviting option. "I just need a minute," I say before Kenzi can question what it is I am doing. I hear her mutter something under her breath about wasting precious time, but it is still fairly early morning, we can afford to spare a few minutes.

Seconds turn to minutes, slowly slipping away between the cracks, but when I reopen my eyes I know of the perfect way to give us both a sense of direction. I begin moving in almost automatic motions, snapping a thin branch in half so it fits easily between my clutches, my slender fingers brushing my hair away from my face, my feet dragging themselves across the ground, as to erase any marks of the land, giving me a clean slate to work on. Kenzi watches me with a raised eyebrow, her eyes full of questions, but she gives me the time I need to work before either one of us speaks. We need some sense of a plan, but before that can be done we need to know our enemy. I remember each of them, from the first moment I watched each of the tributes mounting the stage for the first time during the recap of the reapings, to each of the faces that have been shown across the night sky. I begin drawing the stick through the dirt, beginning with District One, then District Two and so forth, writing down each of the still remaining tributes beneath their respecting District. I then draw a circle in the dirt, drawing the letter 'c' in the middle of it, to represent the cornucopia. "Alright, so we need a plan, an idea of where we want to go, but we don't want to go running into a direction where we will be outnumbered so from here we can go over who is still alive, how much of a threat they may be to us, who they are most likely with and what direction they may have gone in," My mind is working in overdrive as I speak, trying to remember every detail of the days leading up to the bloodbath and each moment after, piecing together who may have an alliance with who, who ran off in what direction, anything that may be of use to us.

"Alright, you have my attention, go on," Kenzi says, as she folds her arms across her chest, watching me intently. I know she doesn't like having to sit still for more than five minutes, but if I can get her to listen just for a little while, we may be able to come up with something that will aid us in our survival. "Okay, so we know both of the tributes from District One are still alive and they were both allied with the careers. Now I noticed during training that the boy, Dapar, I think that is his name, always followed the girl around, they were never apart, but seemed distant towards the rest of the careers, that is what I observed anyways, so I think those two come as a packaged deal, but if they are still with the careers, like you said they will most likely be located at the cornucopia, along with the pair from District Four," As I speak, I draw two ones and two fours in the circle that represents the cornucopia. "They are our main threat, especially the girl from District One and the boy from District Four. From what I saw in training they both know how to wield weapons and well I personally don't think the boy, Theo, is all there, there is just something off about him, it might be how brutal he is," Kenzi nods in agreement to my words. This was our strategy when it came to preparing ourselves for this moment; I volunteered to observe the rest of the competition, training mildly on the side, to know ones opponent is to be one step ahead. I continue this process until I have gone through all of the remaining tributes, scrawling out where they may be in the dirt.

"I know it isn't much, but it is all we have," I say once I have drawn out the final details of our vague map. We haven't even explored half of the arena so it is difficult to know what the terrain may be like in other areas, withered forests could stretch on for as far as the eyes can see, but the dangerous thing is, that we don't know. "There are still those tributes that we have no clue where they could be; like the girl from District Three and the girl from District Twelve," Kenzi points out the most obvious thing that is getting to us both. "That is why I told you to keep your voice down because they could be a lot closer than we expect," I answer, resting the stick I used to draw our most likely incorrect map with, against the trunk of a tree. I carefully look over the drawings in the earth, my eyes following every curve, taking in every impression in the dirt, my mind wanting to soak it all in, and store it away for later use. Kenzi and I decide to try and make our back towards the cornucopia, but to skirt around the edges so we don't happen to run into any unneeded trouble, but there is something that gleams in the surface of Kenzi's eyes that screams that she wouldn't mind running straight into battle.

We gather up our supplies, myself feeling better now that we have a sense of direction, but what happens next is something that no amount of knowledge could prepare one for. I'm not sure if it was a twisted play of fate or a move made by the Gamemakers, displeased with how we have dissected their precious arena and the competition lurking amongst its shadows, but either way the crack that echoes across the terrain catches us both off caught, our heads whipping around, trying to find the source of the noise, but when we find it, it is already too late. One of the larger decaying trees had cracked, its bounds that once kept it grounded being broken, allowing it to fall in any direction that it desired. "Move!" Kenzi shouts, jumping out of the way right before the massive work of nature would have crushed her, but I am not so lucky. I try to move, to turn on my heels, but I have never trained for this, never prepared for such quick reactions. Part of the trees outstretched limps catch a hold of my body, bringing me down with it, slamming me against the ground with tremendous strength, leaving me dizzy and disoriented. I want to call out to Kenzi, to see if she is alright, but instead of words, only unintelligible groans escape my lips. I begin to try and pull myself away from the damage, but the edges of my vision are fuzzy, my eyes not being able to make sense of anything. I drop my head towards the earth, unable to move, the greater part of my body being pinned down, my only salvation of getting out of here resting in the hands of my alliance, but I can't hear her, and that is not a good sign. The last thing I remember before the world fades to black is not the sound of a cannon like I thought it may be, but the sight of a shadowy figure, dragging my limp body across the earth.

**District Two female tribute – Age seventeen - Kenzi Rogers's point of view**

The moment that I scream out at Hadley to move, is a second too late. I have my slingshot raised, the loud crack that radiated across the arena drawing out the career in me, but my weapon of choice would be no help at all against my would be target. The tree falls, backed by a sheer force not known to any mortal man, sweeping both myself and Hadley off our feet. The barren wood separates our struggling bodies, but when I try to dodge the oncoming danger, acting as quickly as my body will allow me to, I end up on the ground, my skull cracking against something solid. I'm out in an instant, my body exposed to any threats that may be lurking in the shadows, my weapon lying discarded next to my limp body, my eyes closed, but my mind is still active, thoughts rolling across my mind as if nothing had happened, nothing at all. Being sucked into this state of unconsciousness is when my mind is given the full reins in control, now having the freedom to run in whichever direction that it so desires. I want to fight the grogginess, to swim back up to the surface, back to reality where I am still fighting for my life, but it is no use, the darkness drags me down anyways.

My heart still beats, even if my mind has become lost to this battle, my body continues to rise and fall with the gentle rhythm of my breathing. I may be down, but I'm not out for the count; it will take a lot more than a fallen tree to take me out of this fight for good. While the world watches the aftermath of what could have been a play of fate or something more, most of the cameras are not trained on my unconscious body, but on something they find much more entertaining, something that I would not discover until I returned to the real world. Slowly memories begin to flash across my closed eyelids, playing out like a movie, but why these particular memories decided to bubble to the surface is something that will forever be beyond me.

I was young, only around the age of thirteen, when my older brother Patrick took on what he thought was a great honor of volunteering for the Games, when he reached the age of eighteen. Even at a young age I never understood the glory in all of this, what honor there was for dying with no cause. Standing in the roped off section for the thirteen year olds, a part of me silently hoped that my brother would change his mind, but there was that other side of me that knew that he wouldn't and I resented him for that, and over the years that would only intensify. My knee length, deep green dress moved with the wind, my light brown hair gleaming in the light of the sun, brushing across my shoulders with each gust of wind that blew through me. I didn't want to be here, not like the rest of the children of my District, I was not a career like the rest of them, I didn't belong, but this was a quality that I would learn to embrace as the years went on. I would grow to revel in the fact that I was different, acting on my impulses only to prove this further, and it was on that day, when my brother left for what I thought would be the last time, that I really let my differences shine.

My body was rigid, but I couldn't stop myself from bouncing on the balls of my feet, forever to be filled with a charged sort of energy. When the escort at the time called out for volunteers for the male tribute, one could literally see the fight in many on the young men who were eligible eyes. So many of them wanted to participate, were ready to lay down their lives for nothing, but it was my brother who beat them to the punch. His voice was so loud, full of confidence, as he shouted, "I volunteer!" A cold chill ran through my body, but that was not enough to silence my voice. "Why would you choose to die for nothing Patrick?!" I screamed; despair clearly laced across my words. With small hands I pushed my way towards the front, ducking under the ropes that once held me in, wanting nothing more than to grab my brother's hands, not letting him go. Many heads were turned in my direction; Peacekeepers working fast to get to me before I could cause any more of a disruption, but my other brother, Dennis, reached me before they could. I continued to yell out obscurities, and I can clearly remember a Peacekeeper harshly telling my brother to silence me before one of them used brute force to do just that. Dennis clamped his hand over my mouth, but I continued to yell, but my words were muffled, now unintelligible. Nothing I had to say would change Patrick's mind anyways; his mind was set, where his honor rested had been made clear.

Images continue to slowly flicker across my unconscious mind, swirls of colors, sounds that don't entirely make sense, but gradually something begins to come into view. There was a young girl who resembled me in so many ways, but I can't pick apart what about her is off, standing on the sidelines watching the final battle of her brothers Games unfolding before her very eyes. I remember the fear, the anticipation, and the hope that maybe he would come home, maybe he would survive, and by some miracle he did. I watched as he decapitated the female tribute from District Nine, without a moment's hesitation; I remember the triumphant smile that split across his lips, as his name rang through the blood scented air. I didn't cheer with the rest of my family, but I couldn't deny the fact that I was happy that he had won, but something about this was still all wrong. He killed with no purpose, just because he had wanted to be placed in that situation, and that is something that will forever remain as a mystery to me.

Slowly the world begins to come back into focus, my eyes fluttering open, my body taking in ragged gasps of air. It is much darker than I remember it being, the arena now blanketed by the cover of nightfall. I struggle to sit up, my head pulsing, but my first thought flies to my weapon. I grope the ground until I find my slingshot, holding it tightly between my clutches. I place my hand on my head, finding the wound that knocked me out cold, it is not lethal, and should heal over time, but it is the sound of the cannon that forcefully snaps me fully into reality. "Hadley?!" I shout out, not caring that I am giving away my position. I swiftly stand on my feet, but regret it the moment the world begins to sway beneath my feet. I place my hands on my knees, taking in several breaths before I can begin to move. My thoughts are racing, flying out of control, every inch of me screaming that I need to find Hadley. I peer through the darkness, throwing my bag back over my shoulder, continuing to grip my slingshot tightly to the point my knuckles begin to turn a ghostly shade of white. I begin to move quickly, doing what I can to ignore the irritating pounding that continues to stretch across my head. I more or less run around the tree that fell, the sole thing that is the core source to this panic. My eyes search the ground, looking for any signs of Hadley and what I find does not point towards anything good.

The ground is upturned, the earth being disturbed, the prints of a body being dragged across the dirt being shown in the light of the paling moon. Despite any better judgement, I follow the trail, with zero regard for what may be waiting for me at the end of it. I follow the trail for several minutes, but it is when I walk straight into a heavy familiar scent that I stop dead in my tracks. The air smells heavily of a blood perfume, so thick that one may be able to actual see the vapor rising into the night sky. The sound of branches cracking from behind me steals away my attention, causing me to whip around, my weapon poised in position. I see something, a dark shape running between the trees, only to be followed by a fit of insane laughter, the kind that sends chills running down your spine. My heart is hammering in my chest, but that doesn't stop me from shooting at whatever it is that is hiding amongst the trees, but when the laughter becomes louder, I know I have missed. Then just like that whatever it was that was there is gone, but a part of me knows that it could come back. I turn my attention back towards the trail, but my senses are now sharper than they ever have been before, wary that whatever killed the source of this strong scent of blood may come back. The trail leads me to a small alcove, only big enough for two, maybe three people, but it is what I see inside that has me clamping my hand over my mouth, fighting back waves of nausea. I step back from the entrance of the small cavern, dropping to my knees, fighting back the urge to throw up what little food I have eaten over the days. This is why I will never understand why people volunteer; why people choose to be here.

**District Nine female tribute – Age fifteen – Astoria/Nika Delacorte's point of view**

I'm free; free to do as I please, free to kill anyone who happens to fall into my hands. They released me, those foolish Capitol people, thinking that I was nothing more than an innocent little girl, who had been struck by misfortune. If only they knew that they willingly placed the key to a real monster in the hands of one so fair, one who didn't even know of the demons that she carried. I slept dormant for so many years, but now it is my turn to run free, to experience the wind whipping against my face, to feel the dirt beneath my toes, to show no mercy to those who wander aimlessly into my twisted web. Who would have thought that behind the face of one so sweet, could be the eyes of one so sinister. I've been sleeping for a thousand years it seems, but now I can open my eyes to everything.

Astoria, the vessel that I am living through, is still active, fighting to win back control, but her struggle is nothing more than a fruitless battle. She can't win back control; she is too far gone to ever be able to claim that back for her own. All it took was that one instance, that one moment to unlock the insanity that slept within her, where I have been waiting silently for what feels like all of eternity. I have only been able to bubble to the surface when she lost her temper, but with her being a mild tempered girl, that was something that didn't happen very often, and now it is time to make up for all the lost time. It is time all of Panem paid witness to Nika, the shadow of the innocent girl that is no longer present. I silently maneuver amongst the trees, moving with a ghost like grace, almost as if I am inhuman, which in many ways I am. I lick my lips hungrily, every ounce of my body screaming, my desire to spill human blood almost becoming too much to bear. I need to find fresh meat, a heart that is still beating, that way I can rip it out with steel, or maybe only my teeth.

I stick to the shadows, weaving in and out of the trees; my feet having carried me far since the bloodbath, that one instance where crimson seemed to rain from the sky, to a heavily wooded area, where the vegetation is almost as dead as the land itself. It is fitting really, an arena so void of life, the perfect place for lives to be laid down for the sole purpose of entertainment, the sickest kind. I've been searching for days, for any other source of life, and that is why I am filled with such an excitement when I finally do hear voices. "Kenzi, will you keep your voice down? I know we haven't seen anyone since day one, but that doesn't mean that we are alone in these woods." I have to bite my lip to stop any sounds of laughter from escaping my lips; it is a little too late for these two to be silent, not when there is now a killer amongst them. I have to fight every screaming nerve in my body from ambushing them; if I am to act in a rash manner then I will have to act quick, taking them down without being able to have any real fun. My fingers playfully dance across the knife belt hug loosely around my waist, each one just dying to have its first taste of fresh blood.

I follow the pair silently for a few feet before they come to a stop, and begin discussing their strategy. All they are doing is playing on borrowed time; no plan is going to save them from my claws. Its torture, having to wait for the perfect moment to strike, having to remain so silent, hidden carefully amongst the shadows. They talk about who may be considered a threat to them, how ironic that the biggest threat is practically breathing down their neck. I'll wait till nightfall I silently tell myself, take one out while they are on watch or while they are lost to a world of sweet dreams, then that leaves me one more to play, but then a play of good luck in my favour takes place, a large tree collapsing towards the earth, its own weight being too much for it to carry, knocking both girls to the ground. I have to act quickly, deciding which one to drag off into a darkness unknown and I decide to pick off the one who is closest first. With agile steps I make my way through the wreckage of wood, grabbing hold of the girl who I think was birthed from District Eleven. She is groggy and disoriented, half of her body pinned down by a disarray of branches, but this only makes her an easy target.

It seems unfair almost, taking advantage of a player who has been knocked down by something that could be nothing more than a twisted play of fate, but this is the Hunger Games, a place where there are no rules, where there is no such thing as playing fair. I act quickly, unsure of the state of the other girl, breaking away as many branches as I can, grabbing the girl around the ankles, and dragging her off to a place where I know we won't be disturbed. She groans a few times, her head bobbing around in an unnatural way, as her body is limply dragged across the dusted earth by my hands, which to be honest is not any easy task. This girl is fairly bigger than I am, and it is a struggle, but I find a way to manage, the thought of freshly spilt blood egging me on. The gods of luck really do seem to be in my favor when I come across a small alcove tucked away amongst the trees, the perfect place for play. I drag the girl into the cave, who absentmindedly tries to dig her nails into the ground, but being halfway unconscious makes her nothing more than an empty meat suite. That's all we all are, empty meat suits waiting to expire, or awaiting the day that we are sent to the slaughter house, but some of us are just lucky enough to be the butcher.

I drop the girl's feet, allowing her entire body to fall in a limp mass on the ground, her eyes fluttering slightly, as she fights for consciousness. I act fast, removing her backpack, and then ripping off each strap, only to use them to bind her limbs. I quickly peek into her bag, there isn't much, but it will be enough to sustain me for the next few days if I am careful with my rations. I have been living off the land since the day I was set free, eating bugs and bark, digging up the earth to drink the water that is hidden there. It isn't much, but it is enough to keep me going for the time being. Besides, I am expecting after this show to intrigue some interested sponsors, and perhaps that will mean the promise of a decent meal. While I am sidetracked, thinking about all the kinds of things I could receive for really putting on a show for the audience, is when my first victim begins to stir. She's quiet at first; not wanting to draw my attention, but it only takes a few seconds before my eyes are on her. "So you're finally awake," I say coolly, as I remove a single blade from my belt, the girl's eyes widening at the sight of it. She opens her mouth to scream, or to maybe call for help, but I effectively cut her off my placing the heel of my boot over her throat, a malicious look now rippling across my features. "Scream and I will cut that tongue of yours right out of your head," I say in a threatening manner, but quickly that look dissolves into a look of amusement. "Actually go ahead and scream all you want, I'm going to cut you up anyways," I say with a sick fit of laughter and that is when the screaming begins.

The thing about putting on a good show is however to really drag out the fear, to make your victim feel helpless and hopeless, and that is exactly what I plan on doing. Once she begins screaming is when I kneel down next to her, soothingly running my hand through her hair. "Oh sweetie, don't be afraid, you shouldn't be scared of dying, what you should be afraid of is how you are going to die." I sit down next to her, absentmindedly running the tips of my fingers along the steely edge of one of my blades, surveying the girls face, as I try to piece together the perfect way to send her into an early grave. Eventually the girl stops screaming and simply watches me with unblinking eyes, her entire body shaking, as her hands continue to try to fight against her bounds, but after being weak from her fall, her struggle is fruitless.

"I want to paint a lovely picture," I exclaim, moving so my knees are planted into the dirt on either side of the girl, my face hanging hauntingly over hers. "You don't have to do this," The girl finally speaks, and I have to give her credit for fighting her fear to find her voice. "I know I don't have to, but the thing is I want to," I say with a wickedly cruel smile creeping across my lips, a look that I am sure looks out of place upon the features of one so innocent. She falls into silence, wanting to accept her death with grace. A part of me is almost disappointed; I was hoping she would put up more of a fight. I bring my knife towards her face, pressing the tip of it against the corner of her lips. "The only way you will truly smile my dear, is if I cut you from ear to ear," I say these words in a melodic way, almost if I was singing, but the words are so haunting, so disturbing, the kind that will plague your nightmares and linger in your waking, but I am so absorbed in the pain that is to come, that I don't notice how close my fingers are to the girls mouth, how close they are to her biting teeth. Right before I am to strike is when she lashes out, her teeth gripping down on my hand, biting down until blood begins to flood her mouth. I let out a hollowed scream, trying to yank my hand away, but her grip is strong. I smash her across the skull with my free hand, forcing her to release her hold on me, but now I am filled with such a blind kind of fury that I am sitting on the brink of losing full control, the balance teetering in the wind. I hold my hand close to my body, trying to slow the blood and then the girl has the nerve to spit the blood that has pooled into her mouth at me, red now spotting my face.

"How about instead we play a game; it's called how many times can I stab the little bitch before she bleeds to death," I scream, raising my knife, ignoring the pain that shoots through my hand, bringing the knife down again, and again, until I lose count. Screams are all that can be heard, playing in chorus with my laughter. I lose count of how many times my knife has pierced her body after ten, but I don't stop until blood covers every inch of her body. "Don't forget to smile for your final close up," I say with madness ringing in my voice before I slash out with my knife, smoothly cutting the girl from the corner of her lips to her ears so her face is cut open in a red smile. I roll off the girl, landing in a heap next to her, trying to catch my breath. My bloodlust is running so high that I don't hear the sound of the cannon over the ringing in my ears. Once I catch my breath, I stand on my feet, ripping off a bit of my jacket, as to wrap my damaged fingers up with it. I grab the deceased girl's bag, exiting the cave, leaving behind my work of art, only to run off back into the cover of the woods, night now blanketing the land, insane laughter following my every waking moment. It is time to find my next victim, to find my next canvas to paint a lovely picture in red upon.

**List of tributes that are still alive~**

District One - Phoenix 'Foe' Sterling

District One – Dapar Radsha

District Two – Kenzi Rodgers

District Three – Kallina Censura

District Four – Vencitiy Corbinette

District Four- Theo Macdonald

District Five – Alexia Tide

District Five – Pike Rivers

District Six – Nelira 'Nel' Blue

District Six – Collin Wrathers

District Eight – Rylinn Abrith

District Nine- Astoria Delacorte

District Twelve – Bluebell Hart

**So I know it has been months since I have updated this story; I've been busy with life and honestly didn't have much motivation or inspiration to continue this story, but I've decided to come back to it and finish it. All you readers shouldn't have to wait as long for the next update! I'm actually quite happy with this chapter; hopefully it was worth the wait.**

**Now here is your sponsor question~**

**On the map of the United States where would the Capitol be located?**

**The first to answer correctly will receive six sponsor points and the next three to answer correctly will receive four sponsor points.**


	29. Hopeless: Day Five

**The answer to my previous trivia question was: the Rocky Mountains**

**The receivers of those points were QueenOfSwordsAndFire who answered first and got six sponsor points. The following three each received four sponsor points: The epic bookworm, DonPianta, and KitKat2014.**

**District Eight female tribute – Age sixteen - Rylinn Abrith's point of view~**

Something about the world is off; maybe it is the way that the ground rumbles, or how I am losing my sense of time, or it might be that the edges around the world are fuzzy, like I'm looking into the reflection of a mud puddle. I mentally scream at myself to open my eyes, but my body feels drained of all its energy, although I'm sure I have been lying huddled up, hidden within the cover of this worn down hollowed out tree for several hours, days even. I must have breathed in more of that toxic vapour than I first thought I had. Everything about that moment is hazy, pieces of it missing, and then I remember Buck, the idiot who told me off before he acted cowardly, running off in another direction.

I sit up quickly, immediately regretting it the moment all my blood rushes to my head, making the ground beneath my feet sway more than it already is. I just need to breathe, and wait for this uneasy feeling to fade, even though being patient is something that I have never been good at. As I lean back heavily against the hollowed tree, the world continues to tremble beneath me, but I play it off as being nothing. They are probably just trying to scare me out of hiding, wanting to draw me out into the open, but even trapped in a world of mist, I'll listen to my instincts and what they tell is that for the time being, I am safe, but in a few moments time it would be revealed to me that my instincts couldn't be more wrong. I wipe my hand across the back of my mouth, dry blood still caked to my lips. How long was I out for? I try to remember everything of that day, the careers showing up out of nowhere, standing to face them, ready to take them on, but then Buck ran off, seeing something more deadly than the careers. I wonder if he made it, as I don't recall seeing his face in the sky, but if I've been out for longer than I hope I have been, than chances are something got to him.

I remember screaming, so much screaming, and it didn't come from me. I'm too proud to show such blatant weakness by allowing my fear to bubble to such an intense level. Maybe the screaming came from him, but maybe it's for the better. I can't have someone so cowardly on my side, he would only slow me down more than he was to begin with; I'm better off working on my own. Although I can't ignore the anger that is aimed towards him, that has rooted its way to my core. He left me to fend for myself, running off to save his own skin, but to be honest; it shouldn't come as much as a surprise to me. We are all only looking out for ourselves in these Games, the loyalties that are drawn together through alliances only running so deep. I rest my head in my hands, now more angry at myself, why had I been so stupid to ally with someone in the first place? I could be better equipped, in a better situation, if I had just gone into the bloodbath alone, without having to worry about the life of another. I guess there is no sense in holding a grudge against the dead; that is if he is dead, but even if he isn't, it is only a matter of time; at least now I don't have to listen to him going on about how I have no control.

I don't want to admit it, especially to myself, but Buck may have been right about that one thing. I have wanted to believe that I have some control in this, in the outcome of the dice that have been idly thrown, but I don't. I actually roll my eyes as these thoughts assault my mind; god damn Capitol, god damn Games, god damn all of this to hell. I never asked to be here, I never asked to be a piece in their Games, those people who volunteered, who are in this for the glory, they are the ones who are deserving of any early grave; dying without a purpose, what a bunch of idiots they are in my eyes. The more I think about this, the angrier I become, to the point I am blinding myself to my surroundings, something that is more than deadly. I'm so absorbed in my anger, and hatred towards things that I have no control over, that I don't notice how much the ground has begun to quake, not until the rumbling sound that shoots through the air like electricity is almost right on top of me.

"What the hell is all that noise?!" I burst out the moment that I can no longer hear myself think. I poke my head outside the safety of my hideaway, my eyes widening at the sight of the oncoming danger. Large wild beasts are stampeding towards my direction, their flesh decaying, the bones protruding from the skin. The creatures are grotesque, but don't look all that threatening alone, but in a herd they will easily walk all over me. I begin to curse at volume, acting quickly, glad that my bag is already draped over my shoulders, but as my fingers grope for my belt, expecting to be met with my whip, they only find thin air. My heart begins thudding wildly within my chest, my breathing becoming rapid; I have got to move, the longer I linger here, the closer the herd becomes, but with each second that melts away all my mind can focus on is my weapon. I whip around quickly, my eyes searching the disturbed dirt, until they spot a small glint of gold. My hands lunge for it, pulling back my whip, only to crawl out of safety, all of my intentions on running, but then fate seems to want to drag me right back down again.

As I crawl through the dirt, standing back on my feet, when I swing around to run, my whip flailing around dangerously, it become caught in the bark of the tree that had once held me safe, but now all it wants to do is hold me captive. I'm beginning to panic, tugging wildly on my whip, trying to release it from its holds, but all I am doing is further lodging it in place. This weapon is my final life line, that one thing that can help me avoid the icy claws of death. Without it I am more likely to die, but if I am to stay and try to fight for it, I am going to become nothing more than a roadblock that is going to be easily plowed over. This is when I begin screaming, but not out of fear, but out of frustration. "Bloody hell!" I scream at the top of my lungs, but my voice is drowned out by the thunderous noise of hooves against the dirt. If I don't run now, I'm going to become just another causality, and after the close call that I avoided the day before, I refuse to go down now.

I promised to myself in that moment that my name was drawn from the reaping bowl, that if I was to go down, I would go down fighting and that is a promise I will not go back on. I throw my tangled whip to the ground, turning on my heels and begin running in any direction that could promise me safety. I will my feet to move faster than they ever have before, but everything about the motions I am making, from the way I pump my arms back and forth, to the sound my feet make when they hit the earth, feels oddly familiar to me. I've spent the better half of my life running from figures of authority, my laughter generally following my every waking moment. It was always for the thrills, for being able to prove that I was one step above the law, but it is this one single moment that everything seems to be catching up with me. This may be some sick ironic joke to the world, but to me this final run means the difference between life and death. My eyes begin scanning the horizon, I can't outrun these beasts, although I would like to think that I can, but I have to look past my pride, past my need to prove myself, to show that I can win this on my own, and think logically. Off to the right the hills begin to rise into almost a shelf, a place that I can hide amongst until these beasts past, and I quickly turn on my heels, ready to run for my life.

The wind whips through my hair, the ends flying behind me like a pair of raven's wings, adrenaline is coursing through my veins, only egging me on further. I haven't been running for very long in reality, but I feel like I have been struck in the same place for all of eternity, my final salvation just out of my reach, but once I reach the hills, what I am met with is not safety, not a place where I can catch my breath, but yet another obstacle, a place where I once again have to make a final stand. I don't even see them at first; I'm too busy in trying to slow my pace down, knowing I have reached a place where those wild beasts won't be able to trample over my limp body. I only notice them the moment I run straight into the girl, both of our bodies tumbling towards the earth in a disarray of limbs.

**District Six female tribute – Age sixteen - Nelira Blue's point of view~**

I knew what I was getting into from the moment that I volunteered, but I never thought that the Games could be so bloody frustrating. Everything from the heat, to how little food and water we have been able to find, to how no one has sponsored either of us, to how much Collin talks when he should be keeping his mouth shut, as a way not to draw any attention to us, it all piles up, creating a heavy stream of frustration to bubble through my veins, to the point where I may just snap. I only volunteered because I knew Collin, the idiot that he is, wouldn't have even made it past day one if it wasn't for me. I've kept him alive this long though, and I plan on keeping him alive for as much longer as I can. Collin deserves to make it home, he's a good person who would never hurt a fly, but if I am to go down in this fight before he does, a part of me knows he will be soon to follow. Even when I glance over at him now, running his hand along the high shelves of land, tripping over his feet, quietly humming to himself, he's just hopeless, but even the hopeless deserve a chance at some point.

There is also the other nagging reason behind why I need him to make it home; if I can't be there, someone has to be around to take care of what is left of my family. I left behind a home riddled with depression and famine, a place that over the last few years I could not bring myself to call home anymore. Between having to basically raise my sister, living in bitter toleration with my mother, it is no wonder I decided to befriend Collin, a boy who is so cheerful, even though he comes from a family that struggles more than my own does. As we wander down the rolling hills, looking for anything that can sustain us for the next few days, my mind begins to run away from me. First my mind is focused on the fact that we did manage to find water, the stream was small, but it was enough, but then my mind falls to the small stream that ran through my backyard back in District Six, it was more of a mud puddle in my eyes, but that didn't stop my younger sister from running through it, getting her clothes sprinkled in earth and water.

Rose; she is the perfect image of innocence, and she deserves so much better than the life I was able to provide for her, but maybe if Collin or I can make it back home, she can have better. She won't have to worry about going to bed hungry anymore, or fret over the fact that her clothes are too big for her, being hand-me-downs from when I was her age. The more that I think about my sister, the more emotions begin to well up inside of me, some being ones that I can't place a name to. I've never liked being able to feel too much, not over the last few years that is. Ever since my dad perished, anger has seemed to be my constant companion. It helped me survive for awhile, but it has done nothing but slowly corrode my world. I have learned not to let my emotions get the better of me, but anger is that one that is able to cloud my vision, impairing my judgment, making it difficult to think straight. Then there were always those things that made me so angry that I wasn't able to avoid, no matter how much I wish that I could, like my mother. She had better be looking after Rose because I swear if she isn't, even after death, I will make sure that her life is hell. I hated my mother for being stricken by depression, for neglecting Rose. I could care less if she didn't pay any attention to me, but Rose is another story.

I give my head a quick shake, my nails having begun to dig into the palms of my hands. I can't be thinking about how things may be back home, they will only make me worry, or make me angry. I need to have a clear head, otherwise things here in the arena are not going to end too well, but something that should be easy, couldn't be more difficult to me. "Nel?" I hear a familiar voice calling to me from far away, a sturdy hand tugging on the sleeve of my jacket. "What do you want now Collin?" I snap, swatting his hand away. He doesn't even flinch at my tone, he just simply takes it, and for some reason that only pisses me off further. "I was just going to tell you a joke I remember one of my sisters telling me, maybe it could help lighten the mood," He says with his signature lopsided grin, not even the horrors of the Games being able to bring him down. We have both seen bloodshed, heard screaming throughout the night, been starving, thirsty, been watched like animals in a cage, but still he is able to smile, and a part of me just wants to smack it right off his face. It doesn't seem fair how Collin seems to constantly become the target of my anger; it's only because he has a habit of being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

"I don't get it," I mutter, and he only raises his eyebrow in question. "Well you have to let me say the joke first," He begins, but I quickly cut him off. "No, not the stupid joke; how you can still smile after all of this, it isn't right!" The volume of my voice slowly begins to rise, even though I have been the one who has been bossing Collin around the last few days, telling him to keep his voice down that way no other tributes could overhear us. "Well its better than being all gloomy," Collin shrugs his shoulders, acting like the innocent boy that he is. Maybe I'm jealous about the fact that life can deal him the shittiest hand possible, but he still finds a way to smile, a tactic I have never been able to do. "We're in the Games Collin; people don't smile here, they don't tell jokes," I say while shaking my head. "I know, but I would rather be doing that, then what we are supposed to do here," As he speaks I notice the shudder that runs through his body. This is why he needs me, why he is so dependant even if he doesn't know it; he would never be able to kill if it came down to it, if his life was hanging in the balance.

I open my mouth to shoot back some retort, but I quickly silence myself at the sound of some kind of disturbance just over the hills. I strain my ears, trying to listen, but I can't tell what it is. "What is that?" Collin asks, but I don't answer him, his guess would be as good as my own. It seems too loud to be created by other tributes, and when the ground begins to quake is when I act on my instincts. "I don't know, but we need to get out of here, now," I say sharply, Collin nodding in agreement, but I know he would have gone along with anything I had said. We begin making our way down the slopes, along the rock and earth made shelf that spirals up into the sky to our right, it provides us great coverage, but the way it sharply turns makes it difficult to see where the noise is coming from, making it bounce off the walls so it could be coming from anywhere. We begin to quicken our pace, but then I am seeing stars, tumbling towards the earth, caught in a disarray of limbs.

At first I think that Collin has cut me off, tripping us both up, but instead of looking into the familiar deep blue eyes of Collin, I'm looking into a pair of lethal looking green eyes. Instantly my heart race begins to pick up, the fight in my coming to life. I can hear Collin shouting my name, but he's at a loss of what to do, but I know this girl needs to die if we want to live. The girl is stronger than I am, pinning her elbow against my throat, but my fingers slide down to my belt, searching for my knife, but panic floods through me when I realize it's not there. Everything happens so quickly, bringing my knee up so it connects with the girls stomach, the air rushing out of her lungs, throwing her off of me, my eyes searching for my knife, which must have been knocked loose from its place when I fell. I quickly glance at Collin, who is frozen in fear to where he stands, but when I finally find my knife, I am not the only one who has it in their sights. I drag my body across the earth, trying to reach it first, but the other girl beats me there, holding the prize triumphantly between her clutches.

I thought I would be more prepared for a moment like this, where we were caught off guard, but a part of me knows only one of us is going to make it out of this alive. "Collin, run!" I scream, when the girl scrambles to her feet, getting ready to lunge at him. "I don't think so bitch!" I scream before I throw myself at the girl, sending us both back down to the ground again, but the moment I hit the ground I know something is wrong. She has the knife against my throat, opening my neck into a sick red smile. I'm choking, drowning in my own blood, but my thoughts focus mainly on Collin. Did he get away? Somewhere far away I hear a struggle, a sick cracking noise, before the weight of the other girl is pushed off of me. I can't see, the world going fuzzy, slowly beginning to fade to black. I can feel my own warm blood slowly beginning to coat my body, but amongst the pain, the knowing that this is it, do I see something familiar.

Breath taking blue eyes are looking down at me, clouded with tears. Collin is alive, he managed to survive, that's all I repeat to myself in these final moments. I see his lips moving, but I can't hear him. My lips are trembling, trying to form words, but my strength is fleeting. Collin grips one of my hands, holding it like it was his final lifeline. I don't want to leave him behind, to have him fend for himself, but I realize that I don't have a choice. He brushes my cheek with a shaky hand, smearing blood across my face, but all I do is focus on his eyes; the last thing I want to see before the world turns to black. He is a piece of home, something that I thought I no longer had, but was staring me right in the face all these years. He's begging, asking me to stay with him, but I can't, I have to go. I spent the greater part of my life trying to keep this boy alive, but the most painful thing of all this is that I won't be around to see if he makes it.

**District Six male tribute – Age seventeen - Collin Matthew Wrather's point of view~**

I can't move, every nerve in my body fighting the commands that my mind yells at them. I've never been the type to be particularly brave, but I also didn't think that fear would have such a strong, vicelike grip on me. The girl with the raven black hair, who I recognize as the female tribute from District Eight, comes flying out of nowhere, colliding with Nel, sending them both hurdling towards the ground in a tangled mass. Nel has always been the strongest of the pair of us, the one who was always willing to run head first into a fight, but something about this is different. Maybe it is the fact that there is now a greater prize at hand, other than pride.

I take a few shaky steps backwards, my eyes wide, my mind racing, but my body is not listening. I'm mentally screaming at myself to move, to help Nel, but I wouldn't know what to do. I have never been in a fight before, I've never handled a weapon in my life, and Nel has told me that I wouldn't be able to kill if it came down to it. She said I'm too innocent, too pure to take a life, and maybe she was right, but I thought things may be different if I knew her life was on the line. Nel is here because of me, but I never put much thought into it before, mainly because I never put much thought into anything. That is why I have been able to slide through life with a smile dancing across my lips, even if it seemed out of place, especially here in the arena. Yet it is here that I really see why she had to volunteer, as she put it; without her I would already be dead, I really am hopeless.

Nel screams at me to run, but everything about those words just feels wrong. How can she expect me to just leave her behind; I would never be able to forgive myself if I were to part ways with her now. I almost feel like I've been submerged in water, the whole world slowing down to an unbearably slow pace. It's like looking through the water towards the surface, something that is just out of your reach. I may as well be back home, watching this all unfold, that is how useless I feel, drowning beneath the pressure of reality. I'm even worse than the people of the Capitol, the strangely colored human beings, who Nel is constantly cursing about. They all watch the fight from the comfort of their homes, grease dripping from their lips; I never bothered to care about what they did with their lives, but with Nel always swearing absurdities about them, I grew to adopt her opinion, and it is here that I draw together that I am worse than they are. Here I am, sitting in the hot seat, the front row, and still I am doing nothing. I can't speak, I can't will myself to move, I'm useless; the boy from District Six who everyone had expected to be finished off on day one, and I would have been if it wasn't for the girl who is fighting for my life right before my eyes.

Nel's voice is still ringing through my ears, my eyes wide as the District Eight girl stands to lunge in my direction, brandishing the knife that once belonged to Nel. I've lived in a world of starvation and depression all my life, but that was never enough to bring me down, but now all I can feel is fear, a crushing emotion that threatens to steal away my breath. The look in the girl's eyes is wild, but she looks scared almost; she doesn't want to die any more than Nel or I do. This is what sets me apart from most, no one in my position would be noticing the fear of my attacker, most would either be running or making their final stand, but instead I am noticing the minor details, things that shouldn't matter in this moment. I squeeze my eyes closed, bracing myself for the blade, but it never comes, but when I open my eyes what I see is worse than death itself. The girl has Nel on the ground, the knife held between her clutches glinting menacing in the glow of the sun. "No!" I scream, but words are useless against an edged blade, they don't stop it from cutting through Nel's neck, they don't stop her eyes from bulging from her head, they don't stop the way she now gasps for air.

Crimson is everywhere, hanging in the air, clouding my vision, buzzing through my head, soon to be stained to my hands. They all said I would never have it in me; that I could never hurt a fly, but it is now that I am going to prove them all wrong. The girl doesn't even have time to turn around and face me, to see the large rock that is now held between my clutches, she doesn't see it until it strikes across her skull, a sickening cracking noise ringing all around us. I bring the rock down once, twice, three times, only stopping when the girl drops to the ground, her cannon soon following after her. The people of the Capitol are all sitting at home, with their mouths hanging open wide, not expecting that I would be the one to rise up from the crimson. I was not a favourite in practice, I wasn't feared by the other tributes, I only came off as a gentle giant in the interviews, but now here I stand, a blood slicked rock held in my hands, my body trembling, tears clouding my vision. I don't have time to think about what it is I have done, all I can think about is Nel, dying at my feet.

I drop down to my knees, bringing my hands to Nel's neck, trying to stop the heavy stream of blood that flows from the gash, but my efforts are fruitless, useless. I've never seen so much blood in my life; I feel like I could drown in it if I allowed it to. "Nel, can you hear me?" I choke out, trying to keep my voice steady, but that attempt is almost as useless as trying to patch up her wound. Nel only looks up at me with wide eyes, her body withering on the ground, as the life slowly drains from her eyes. "Please, Nel you can't leave me here, you can't, you just can't," By now tears are streaming down my cheeks, and I feel no shame for the weakness that I show. Her lips tremble, as she tries to form words, but nothing but chocked noises slip free from her lips. I take her shaking hand in my own, holding it tight, as if it were my final lifeline, and in many ways that is exactly what it is. Nel is that one person who has kept me alive, even though she didn't have to; she didn't even like me when we first met, she saw me as nothing more than an annoyance, but over the years I slowly grew on her, and now without her I don't know what to do.

"Nel you can't leave me; remember I'm the hopeless one? You can call me an idiot a thousand times over, slap me as hard as you can, if that's what it takes; I would even be willing to switch places with you. I need you Nel; I can't survive here without you," I continue to beg her, gently brushing my hand across her cheek, smearing blood across her skin. I just want to hear her call me an idiot one last time, to have her push me out of her way when I clumsily step in front of her, I just want those little things that made her and mine's friendship so unique. I would be willing to give up anything to prevent this from happening, but it is my fault she is here, lying in the dirt, smeared in her own blood, clinging desperately to the last few seconds of her life. "Please Nel, I need you," I whisper, as I place my head on her shoulder, still gripping her hand tight. I haven't cried in years, I didn't even cry when my dad left, but right now that doesn't matter, tears dampen my cheeks, mingling with the blood that falls towards the earth.

With the sound of Nel's laboured final breaths echoing through my ears, I'm thinking about how we met; how I ran straight into her at school, running away from some other kids who were mad at me for kicking their only ball over the fence. She cursed me out good, even though we were only young; she had a mouth on her, which would only get worse as the years went on. I was drawn to her, and even now I'm not sure why. I followed her around like a puppy dog for days, driving her up the wall, until she became used to my company, and from there we were inseparable, but now here is fate, tearing us apart. "I'm sorry Nel," I whisper, as she draws in her final breath, her cannon going off somewhere far away; the moment I hear her cannon go off I snap back up, her once strong grip on my hand loosening. I don't want to accept this reality, I want to believe that our roles have been reversed, that for a change she is the one playing a joke on me, only pretending to be asleep, having smeared ketchup all over herself. I grip her shoulders, gently shaking her, calling her name, but when she doesn't respond I begin to shake her harder. "Nel, wake up!" I scream at her lifeless body, grief taking its toll on my body, turning my mind to mush, ripping my insides into two. When she still doesn't respond, and the realization that she is gone hits me, is when I drop her, now looking at my red stained hands.

"I want to go home," I say quietly. "I want to go home," I say louder this time, my hands shaking uncontrollably. The red staining my hands seems to be staring back up at me, whispering to me the things that I have done, and what I have failed to do. I look behind me, my eyes falling upon the girl from District Eight with her skull smashed in, and this is when I begin to feel sick to my stomach. I crawl away from the horror show, but careful not to let Nel out of my sight, I'm not ready for the Capitol to take her away from me. I breath in deeply, trying to calm my nerves, but when the thick scent of blood hits me is when my stomach churns, causing me to empty its contents, getting rid of what little nourishment I have been able to get my hands on over the last few days. Once my stomach is empty, I wipe the back of my hand across my mouth, crawling back over to Nel, holding her hand in mine again. It is useless to linger here, no amount of begging is going to bring her back, but just leaving her here like this, all covered in blood, her eyes blankly staring up into the sky, feels wrong. I feel like I need to do something for her, but my mind only draws a blank. Instead I sit there for what feels like all of eternity, tears budding at the corners of my eyes, only to break away to join the dirt and blood beneath me.

I can almost hear Nel yelling at me, telling me to stop crying, to suck it up and move on. It takes all of my energy to detach my hand from Nel's, but I don't move away from her right away. First, I carefully take her arm, removing her token, a bracelet made of yarn that her sister had made for her, the last piece of Nel I'll be able to keep as my own. I brush her hair away from her face, kissing her on the forehead before I stand up. I'm about to drag myself away from this scene, but stop short when I hear Nel screaming in the back of my mind again, telling me to take the bag from both her body and the girl that died by my hands body. I move robotically, first gently taking the bag from Nel's stilled body, but hesitating when I turn to face the other girl. I can't wrap my mind around the fact that my hands did this; I did something that no one thought I was capable of. What if this girl had family, people that cared about her? I try to ignore these thoughts, as I quickly remove her bag from her limp shoulders, grabbing the red stained knife that lays discarded by Nel's side. My breathing is shallow, as I turn to walk away, but every inch of my body screams at me to stay. All I want is to be able to cling onto these false dreams that Nel will wake up, but all I am doing is setting myself up for disappointment. She's not going to wake up; she's gone, leaving me behind to fend for myself, something that I have never been able to do.

I clumsily begin to walk away, basically dragging my feet across the dirt when I hear the disturbance in the air in the direction of where I came from. When I turn around I see the hovercraft appear, a claw dropping to retrieve the District Eight girl's body, then returning to snatch Nel away from this world as well. It takes all my strength not to drop to my knees, succumbing to my pain once more, but instead I tightly grip onto Nel's bracelet, forcing myself to move forward until my feet refuse to carry me any further. I don't make it much further until I collapse amongst a small indent in the hills grooves, leaning back heavily against the dirt wall. I still refuse to accept the fact that she is gone, a part of me is expecting her to come running around the corner, calling me an idiot for leaving her behind, but she never comes. I curl up on the ground, hugging my knees tight to my chest, feeling more like a child than I thought was possible. I idly wrap Nel's bracelet around the knife that is now mine, one that is both my damnation and salvation, closing my eyes, preparing myself for the moment that her face flashes across the night sky.

**List of tributes that are still alive~**

District One - Phoenix 'Foe' Sterling

District One – Dapar Radsha

District Two – Kenzi Rodgers

District Three – Kallina Censura

District Four – Vencitiy Corbinette

District Four- Theo Macdonald

District Five – Alexia Tide

District Five – Pike Rivers

District Six – Collin Wrathers

District Nine - Astoria Delacorte

District Twelve – Bluebell Hart

**I feel bad about having to rip those two apart, but it had to be done, but on a happier note it didn't take me months to post this next chapter (; Now there are only roughly about six or seven chapters left so you all better be praying for your characters~**

**Now here is your sponsor question~**

**What type of berry does Gale toss into Katniss's mouth when they make fun of Effie on Reaping Day?**

**The first to answer correctly will receive six sponsor points and the next three to answer correctly will receive four sponsor points.**


	30. Turning Up The Heat: Night Six

**The answer to my previous trivia question was: Blackberry.**

**The receivers of those points were Fleur-WickedWitchOfBeauxbatons who answered first and got six sponsor points. The following each received four sponsor points: The epic bookworm.**

**District One male tribute – Age seventeen - Dapar Radsha's point of view~**

Over the last two days the thought about being crowned as Victor has crossed my mind more than it has since that first moment my name was drawn out of the Reaping bowl. At the time I merely brushed the misfortune off, looking on the light side of the situation, which too many there wouldn't even be one, but to me if I looked hard enough it was there, like the gleaming light at the end of the tunnel. Fame and fortune, the kind of life a young man could get used to, that is the light at the end of the tunnel, but I never put much more thought into it; that is until now. I sit by the edge of the fire that is situated in our camp, absentmindedly poking at the red hot coals with a pointed stick, the sun scorching down onto my heated body. The heat is excruciating, the worse that it has been since the day our platforms began to rise, and it is easy to see that the heat is getting to everyone, making each of us more irritable, that is except me of course.

My mind is dwelling on other things, like the fact that tonight is it, the night that Foe and I are ready to put her plan into effect. After tonight there will be no more taking orders from Theo, no more listening to his frustrated growls when his hunts for other tributes turn out to be fruitless, there will be no more listening to Vencitiy's obnoxious comments about how she looks; there will just be Foe and I, fighting till the end, till we reach the final two, and at that point may the best man or woman win. Some people would say that I am being foolish for placing so much trust in the hands of Foe, one of the more deadly forms of competition in these Games, but I like to think that she will keep her word, just like I intend to keep mine. While the sun continues to burn with such a brilliance, breaking out amongst the grey haze that continues to linger in the sky, no one seems to be in the mood for hunting; in this heat trying to strain ourselves is just going to end up in disaster, at least that is what Foe said to me, but that didn't stop her from pushing hunting on Theo, the more tired he is, the better.

Two more tributes went down last night, the faces of the females from both District Six and Eight flashing across the night sky. To me all that means is two less people to have to look out for, four less eyes watching my back, wanting to see me dead. I don't see it as a victory, more like a play of fortune, but to some others in my alliance, like Theo, it is a disappointment, a shame that he wasn't the one who got to send them to an early grave. I mentally roll my eyes at the memory of how he cursed out the fact that people are dropping like flies, and how he is not having any part in it. Foe says that his bloodlust and hunger to prove his dominance are going to be his downfall, and with each passing day I'm just seeing how right she may be. I continue poking at the embers, the hot coals sizzling as they are prodded. I just need to lay low today, keeping my lips sealed, which to be honest is something that has been rather difficult to do. I've always been a talkative person and watching my words is something that does not exactly come naturally to me, but doing so has never been more important than now. If I am to slip up, to allow one clue to slip pass my lips, our plan will have been in vain, backfiring in our faces, well more likely my face.

I find myself glancing around our camp, the kind of place you would expect the careers to house themselves, the kind of place that would be seen as a luxury to the rest of the tributes, the kind of place that most careers think that they deserve. I notice Foe milling about the supplies that are piled up high within the mouth of the Cornucopia, acting casual, as she looks through the different arrangement of throwing knives, but I know she is using that as nothing more than a cover. She is setting aside two fully stocked packs, leaving them at the ready so we can snatch them in an instant, running off into the impeding darkness once we have set ruin to this place. She made sure yesterday that the flammable barrels are already in place; something that she wouldn't let me do because she wants to make sure it is done right. I simply shrugged this off, not taking any offence because all that means is less work for me. A bang that rings through the air every few minutes means that Theo is still hurling his axe at the side of the Cornucopia, leaving several indents imprinted into the gold colored metal. I have never seen an axe look for frightening than it does held in his hands; most of the time it looks like he is fighting all of his urges not to throw it at any one of us at any given moment. Vencitiy is sitting on the edges of one of the far hills, keeping an eye out, but we all know she is taking the opportunity to soak in as much sun as she possibly can. Then there is me, sitting by the fire, looking almost harmless, at least in comparison to the rest of the careers. Vencitiy and I are the only ones that don't have blood on our hands, but I'm also not searching for an opportunity to change that. If I can get through these Games without having to stain my hands in red, well I see that as an accomplishment all in itself, something that my name would be remembered for in the whispers of history.

I allow my mind to get lost amongst these superficial thoughts once again, thinking more and more about what it would be like to become the next victor. I haven't thought about it much before now, but the more that I think about it, the more appealing that it becomes. I would be able to live a life of glamour, getting lost in a rich lifestyle. People would look up to me; kids would aspire to live the life that I would have. My mind dwells only on the glitter and the glam of the lifestyle of a victor, and not the other side to the coin. I don't allow my thoughts to linger on the idea that as a victor you have to send two kids to their deaths each year, with nothing more than your advice to help keep them alive. Those thoughts don't once cross my mind, instead I think about the food, the fortune, and not to mention the girls. That is the light at the end of the tunnel; a life without worries, a life of leisure, but many could be victors would not get the harsh dose of reality until they achieved that life or when death is staring them in the face, as they try to claim that life as their own.

I allow my eyes to fall shut, diving farther and farther into this world; images of people dancing flashing across my closed eyelids, gowns brushing across the ground, music ringing through the air. It is the kind of life that many of us would never get the chance to live, but for me, it is now only a finger grasp away. There are less than half of us left, and I have yet to let these Games break me. I have seen bloodshed, I've seen the many faces flash across the sky, I've helped line up my alliance for deceit, but all I can focus on is that these people will be in a better place, many in a world that is less cruel. For some people perhaps dying would be better than the life they have left behind. It is these thoughts that keep my world from growing dark, from allowing my mind to snap under the pressure of this reality. It is a talent I suppose, seen as an annoyance to others, but being able to make light of any situation is a quality that I would not trade in for the world, for it is what keeps me sane. My mind is calm and I think I may have actually begun to doze off, but a sharp jabbing in my shoulder causes me to swiftly snap open my eyes.

"I wasn't sure if you were deep in thought or if you were sleeping," Vencitiy says, as she takes a seat next to me, stretching out her slender arms above her head. With Vencitiy the conversation tends to tread around shallow topics, but that is far better than talking about tearing people's heads off, a topic that Theo doesn't seem to mind. "I was actually just thinking about what it would be like to be a victor," I respond, and the look that flickers across Vencitiy's features only gives away that, that is a topic that has crossed her mind as well. "The life of a victor is going to be fabulous; carefree, easy, something most people can only dream about," She says with a hint of arrogance in her voice, as if this title is already hers. "I'm just looking forward to the parties," I begin, but am swiftly cut off the moment an axe lands in the dirt next to me, landing dangerously close to my outstretched fingers that lay in the earth. I jump back, startled, bringing my hand out of harm's way sharply. My eyes follow the edge of the blade, only to then find the source; Theo standing there with a sneer dancing across his features.

"You talk like you actually have a chance of winning," He says arrogantly and it takes all my strength not to roll my eyes. A part of me was hoping that he would have taken off on his own after the bloodbath, thinking that he could win this on his own, but much to our disappointment he stood by the alliance, remaining as the self proclaimed leader. "We all have a chance at winning," I say, being the forever optimist that I am. He opens his mouth to spit out some retort, but when I poke at the fire again, dislodging a log so a large flame shoots up into the air, he strides over snatching the stick from my hands, as if I was nothing more than a small child. "Watch it; are you trying to make our camp go down in flames?" He basically growls and I have to bite my lip to stop myself from laughing at the irony of his sentence.

**District One female tribute – Age seventeen - Phoenix 'Foe' Sterling's point of view~**

It wasn't easy, this stringing together a clever plan of deceit, but finally the time to carry through with it has fallen upon us, but too bad there was one more step I added to this plan, just one more little surprise. It's all rather clever really, it just took a little bit of brains, and the desire to want to win that gave bloom to the spawning of this idea. These entire Games are about backstabbing those who have placed their trust in the palm of your hands, too bad my intentions have always been to crush them while they stand by, watching helplessly. There isn't very many of us left, less than half of us now, and it is time to turn the pressure up on my allies, that is before they can do the same to me. It is only a matter of time before Theo snaps, attempting to slaughter us all, but too bad he will never get the chance, I'll be long gone before he can wipe the sleep from his eyes.

It's late, a heavy blanket of night cloaking the arena, shadows blossoming in every corner, the howls of creatures unknown echoing from somewhere far away in the distance, a cold wind whipping around our camp, but now it is time to turn up the heat. I sit atop the mouth of the cornucopia, absentmindedly flipping my knife through my fingers, being told that it was my turn to take watch for the evening, but this was only something to be used to my advantage. I glance to my right where the soft glow of embers can be seen, the shadowy figures of the rest of my alliance resting peacefully around it. My eyes linger on Dapar's figure for a moment, I can see that he is starting to wake from his slumber, ready to help carry out my plan, but that poor foolish boy, he doesn't have any idea as to what will be coming his way in a matter of minutes. I always knew that he trusted me too much, he actually thought that I would hold true to my word, promising to stick it out to the final two, but there is no such thing as loyalty in these Games; to win you have to be clever, deceitful, willing to do whatever it takes to win, and I am more than willing to do just that.

I fluidly slide off the edge of the cornucopia, landing on the earth with a catlike grace. Everything after this moment has to follow through with precision; there is no room for mistakes because in these games mistakes always equal fatal consequences. It is here that I am going to prove myself, that I am going to show to all of Panem that I am more than some pretty face that was birthed from District One. I am no golden goddess with flowing blonde hair that looks like it was kissed by the sun, my skin does not glow, my eyes do not sparkle, but instead the fine curve of my lips are pulled back into a deadly smile, the kind of smile that says I'll eat your heart out. It is here that I shall prove to my damn parents back home that I am better than their precious Pixie, my _darling _sister; it is here that I will prove to Ace that I can survive, and that I will make it back home to him sooner rather than later, and when I do, we have a lot of trouble to catch up on.

With stealthy steps I make my way towards a small corner of the cornucopia where I had tucked away some necessary supplies earlier in the day. I may be able to fight, but gathering has never been my strong point, and if I want to live I'll need to take with me whatever it is I can carry. I slide a full backpack over my shoulders, slide two more pointed knives into my belt, but my fingers linger on a carefully wrapped up piece of cloth, containing something that I hope proves to be most deadly. I had come across them by chance earlier in the day, a small packet of dark colored capsules, ones that I recognize from training or at least they seemed familiar to me. I wasn't able to remember the specific name of them, but they are a type of poison concentrated into a small pill, the kind that if ingested by any living being it will leave them withering in pain in a matter of seconds, all I can do is hope that these pills are what I think they are, and not something useless because if they are to have no effect on him, I'll have yet another problem on my hands, one that would easily be dispatched of, but a problem nevertheless.

With fluid fingers I undo the string, allowing it to fall scattered to the ground, holding up the small pill in the paling light of the moon. It looks so harmless, but simplicity and beauty have always been used to mask who the real monsters are. I quickly drop my hand the moment I hear movement behind me, slipping the pill into my pocket, waiting for the perfect moment to put it to work. I turn around to come face to face with Dapar, who I hand his bag to even though in the back of my mind I know that he won't need it for much longer, but it is more exciting to leave him in this state of limbo, this state of unknowing, this is all about putting on a show for the audience, I might as well claim my crown with some originality. "You ready to do this?" He asks, and I nod sharply in response without any hesitation. "I was born ready," I reply, knowing that the saying is cliché, but in the moment it makes more sense to me than it ever has before. There are people who are brought into this world that belong in a place like this, hunting down the weak, fighting for their lives, it is where they can embrace their true being, and it is now that I am beginning to realize that maybe I am one of those people, just a little less sick and twisted.

Dapar bites his lip, most likely to fight back his laughter, which to be honest was a smart move on his part. If he was to burst out into laughter at this moment, giving away our position, I would have just ended him right here, right now. I motion to him to move a few barrels that were stacked in the back of the cornucopia, barrels that are filled with a highly flammable fluid, just the perfect thing to use to send something up in smoke. It only takes us a few minutes until everything is in place, dumping some of the fluid on the supplies we are not taking with us, leaving some of it in its barrels, but with each second that passes I know that we are taking seconds too long to get this done. I just want to get out of here before the District Four pair emerges from their slumber, and with Theo muttering in his sleep every few minutes when we make a little too much noise, makes me certain that this moment is a lot closer than I would like it to be. Dapar turns to face me once the air is heavily scented with the flammable fluid, a nervous, but reassuring smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

"Final two right?" He says quietly, walking over to stand next to me. I turn my back to him, my silhouette being illuminated by the moon, my hair billowing behind me in inky sheets. He is so naive, so clueless to the bigger picture; he should have known better than to place his trust in anyone, especially someone like me. "The final two," I breathe out slowly, my fingers removing the pill from my pocket, placing it on my lips carefully and what I do next catches all of Panem off guard, quickly having them all sitting on the edge of their seats. I don't swallow the pill, but instead I quickly turn around, grabbing Dapar by the collar of his shirt, pulling him closer to me, our lips colliding for the briefest of seconds. I feel his body tense up, but relax after a moment, but when I shove my tongue into his mouth, along with the pill, is when he senses that something is wrong. Well I pull back his eyes are wide, and he's about to spit out the poison pill, but I clamp my hand over his mouth, and after a brief struggle he eventually swallows it.

"What did you do!?" He yells, doubling over, trying to make himself throw up, but it is too late. I grab the pack of matches that he once held in his clutches, acting quickly because I can hear the shouts of the District Four pair, screaming for answers, running towards our direction. With a single stroke of a match, I drop it into the supplies, everything quickly going up in a red hot inferno. Before anyone can react I am running, running down the dusted hills, disappearing into the darkness. I hear screaming in the distance, a short pursuit, the hollowed screams of death, but as I run, I turn around, bringing my hand up to my lips, blowing them a kiss, leaving them with nothing more than my fleeting figure and a kiss of death.

**District Five male tribute – Age eighteen – Pike River's point of view~**

Less than half of us left; those words continuously float across my mind, just a few more days of survival, only a few reaming days of this fight, and then it will all come to a screeching halt. I know what is going to happen sooner rather than later, but Alexia refuses to acknowledge this. I had made up my mind from that first moment I volunteered, I was never here to win, unlike so many others, but I'm also not here to survive either, I am here namely to protect, to protect that one person who worked her way into my life when I denied entry to every other being. I never did understand why she chose me to befriend, the crude boy with the tough exterior, but when I ask her this question her answer is always the same, everyone deserves someone.

I glance to my left, taking in Alexia's slight figure, the way she grasps her spear as if it is her final lifeline, the way her hair falls over her shoulders, the way she is looking back at me in return, eyebrow raised. When I realize she is watching me in return, I look away from her, my eyes finding the sky, the endless bleak grey nothing that stretches forever beyond us. We decided it would be better to travel by night, it would provide us with better cover, especially since we both have targets placed on our backs by the careers, all because we have proved that we are not going to lie down and roll over for them. I clench my fists at the thought of those careers with their bloodthirsty smiles and arrogant auras threatening to swallow them whole. To them this is all a game, this isn't about life and death to them, they have their eye on the prize, the fame and fortune, not the fact that they may die trying to reach it. I may have volunteered to be here, but I am not like them, and I never will be. They sit up by the cornucopia, stuffing their faces, living as best as they can in these conditions while the rest of us are struggling. Alexia and I have been able to manage the last few days, living off the supplies we claimed as our own during the bloodbath, scavenging what food and water that we have been able to find, but to honest it isn't much and it is beginning t show in our features, the way our skin has sunken in, tightening around the bones.

"How far do you think this ravine goes for?" Alexia asks, breaking the silence between us. I glance towards what she is talking about, the large cracks that run deep through the earth, that provided us with shelter our first night in the arena, but has been falling away with each second that slips through the cracks, making it nothing more than a death trap, a seemingly endless pit that hungers to swallow up anyone who wanders too close. I shrug my shoulders lightly before I answer her. "It could go on for the entire length of the arena, we have no way of knowing," I say simply. We decided it would best to walk along its edge, it gives us direction, letting us know where we have been and where we have not, acting as a landmark so we don't get lost. The only problem is that with each day it seems to becoming more and more of a hazard, large chunks of the earth falling away to be swallowed up by nothing, leaving a gaping scar running along the length of the arena. I voiced my concern to Alexia earlier in the day, saying that what if it continues to spread until it consumes the entire arena, leaving us with nowhere to run to, but being the optimist that she is, Alexia just told me not to worry about it for the Gamemakers wouldn't just destroy the arena like that because there wouldn't be much entertainment in doing so.

"Besides, with there being less than half of us left, I'm sure they are going to draw us in together soon before we even reach the end of this ravine," I say honestly, but at my words I can see the unease flashing across Alexia's features. She doesn't want to think about the end of the Games, and I don't blame her, but there is no denying that it is coming, with more and more of us dying, it is only a matter of time. "Maybe they won't, maybe they will just wait until we happen to run into each other," She says, trying to sound hopeful, but it sounds almost forced. "You know that's not going to be the case Alexia; we have grown up watching the Games, we both know they always draw in the last few tributes for the grand finale, and it is there that we fight, and you win," I say calmly, as if I'm not afraid to die. I can't say that I'm completely at ease with the idea, but with only one person in my life that matters, I am able to accept the inevitable. Suddenly Alexia comes to a halt, her eyes on the ground, and I stop, turning around to face her with my eyebrow raised in question.

She has told me countless times to not bring up the subject of me dying for her, but being the brutally honest young man that I am, I say things as they are, and I'm not going to lie to her about what it is I am planning on doing. "And what if I don't want to win Pike, did you ever happen to think of that?!" She says with a sudden outburst, her voice louder than it ever should be in a place like this. I shake my head, knowing she doesn't mean that, she wants to win, in a way we both do, but it is the thought of losing the other that pains us both. Back in the safety of the Capitol I'm sure they are eating this all up, loving to watch the so called lovebirds rip themselves apart. "So you're telling me that you don't want to live?" I ask her, trying to keep the frustration out of my tone, but without much success. She opens her lips to say something, taking a step backwards, but I'll never know what she was going to say because instead all that escaped her lips were screams, as the ground beneath her feet gave way.

The world seems to slow down to an unbearably slow pace, time itself laughing at me, as panic slowly begins to take a hold of my body. This was not the way that things were supposed to go, she wasn't supposed to be taken away by chance, and I refuse to allow her to leave me this way. My feet move on their own accord, lurching forward, my hands flying forward to grab her before the ground can swallow her whole. By some miracle of the maker I am able to grab her wrists, her entire body being jolted to a halt, but still her feet kick out wildly, her body hanging between the balance of nothingness. This is what it feels like to feel real fear, to be certain that you are about to lose everything that you once held dear, but I refuse to allow her to be dragged away from my hands, not here and not now. The reality of this all is that I'm not ready to say goodbye, I've been mentally trying to prepare myself, but all I want is to see one final real smile grace her lips before I become lost to this world.

"Just hold on Alexia!" I shout at her, as I feel her hands wrap their way around my wrists, her nails lightly digging into my skin. Her eyes widen in fear, panic etched all across her features, and I know both of our hearts are beating wildly, threatening to leap right out of our chests. I pull with all my strength, but as more earth begins to fall away, both Alexia and I know that luck is not on our side, and that it doesn't want to see us both get away from this play of fate unscathed. "Pike if you don't let me go we are both going to fall," She says, but I refuse to listen to any of her words. I won't let go of her, I can't, no, I just won't. I squeeze my eyes shut, pulling with all my strength, my mind knowing that I would rather have us both fall then to let go of her. There is a sudden shift in the balance, screaming all around, but I'm not sure if the screaming is a part of my reality or nothing more than some twisted lullaby my mind has created. When I reopen my eyes Alexia is in my arms, our bodies sprawled across the ground just inches away from the gaping hole in the earth. Acting on natural instincts I grab Alexia's wrist in one hand and her spear that she dropped before she fell in the other, forcefully pulling her to her feet, dragging her away from what almost had been death reincarnated.

When I know we are a safe distance away, I drop the spear, pulling Alexia into my arms, holing her close to me, trying to calm the pounding of my heart. "Don't ever ask me to do something like that again," I say harshly, but the worry and fear behind my words are still there. Alexia pulls back from my grasps, looking up at me, and that is when it happens, something that I thought would never happen again, her lips are on my own with a touch that is as light as a moth's wings, but when we break away from one another my eyes focus on something in the distance, but the taste of her lips still lingers on my own. What I see in the distance is something that I can't be sure of, but shortly after Alexia catches on to what it is I am looking at, her brows furrowing together, as she tries to piece together what it is. "Fire," I hear her mumble; a raging inferno burning far away in the distance, in that place where blood fell for the first time, where lives were lost, where lives were saved, the cornucopia, going up in flames.

**District Four male tribute – Age eighteen - Theo Macdonald's point of view~**

We all have weaknesses, even if there are those of us who try to deny this, and I am guilty of doing so. I act like I have no fears, like there is nothing in this world that could strike fear into my heart and I have proven this, by being the ruthless killer of these Games, but there is one thing that frightens me all the way down to my core, and it is here that I am being forced to come face to face with my worst fear. I never should have appointed Foe to take guard for the evening, at least not alone, but sleep was calling me forward like a sickly sweet siren's song, after having denied my body of any slumber for the last few days. I was being careless, cocky, thinking that they wouldn't dare try anything, at least not with me still breathing, but I couldn't be more wrong.

I wake to the sound of yelling, to the sound of panic dripping in the tone of Dapar, and I know instantly that something isn't quite right. I am on my feet in a heartbeat, my axe held tightly between my clutches, my eyes peering through the darkness to find Foe and Dapar standing by the cornucopia, Dapar grasping his throat. I open my mouth to yell at them, to question what it is they are doing, a part of me hoping that this is the moment that we all turn on each other because I cannot deny that I haven't been eagerly waiting for this moment. An alliance has done nothing more than slow me down, hindering how many kills I have been able to put under my belt, but I couldn't deny the temptation to be the leader, to have people listen to every command I would bark at them, hence why I have stuck around so long, but it looks like this is the moment that this mutual struggle to use each other to survive has begun to crumble beneath our feet. Yet what happens next has me stopping in my tracks, dropping to the ground to protect myself. I see the match held between Foe's slender fingers; see her cruel smile, and when she drops the match it falls away towards our supplies in slow motion. I want to run, to stop it, I need everything that the cornucopia houses to survive and without them I'm not sure how long I would be able to make it, but there would be nothing I could do to stop this, to stop everything from going up in flames.

I have always feared fire, even when I was nothing more than a young boy; it is my weakness, that one thing that makes me human. The colors are too bright, the flames too hot, and they have me stopping, fear gripping at my chest with a vicelike grip. I can hear shouting, the sound of Vencitiy somewhere far away, but I can't shake this unease; I feel weak, like one of those scum's from District Twelve and I find that I am hating myself for showing such weakness, when my strength couldn't be more important than now. I need to run in purist after the one that crossed me, that betrayed me, but instead all I can focus on are the flames blocking my path, struggling to bring myself back to my feet, my hands shaking uncontrollably. I need focus, something to provide itself as a distraction, and when I hear weak whimpers is when I find it, that one thing to draw my mind away from the fire that threatens to burn my skin away from the bone.

When I see him is when I begin to lose my focus on reality; I forget about Foe, I forget about Vencitiy, I forget about the controlled raging inferno, I just focus on him, Dapar, who is withering in pain in the dirt. I don't know what happened to him, but the reality is that I could care less. He is nothing more than a fly caught in a web, thrashing about wildly with no means of escape. He had a role in this, in our downfall, and he is about to pay the price for the bounty of two heads instead of only one. "I am going to make you regret this; I am going to make you regret wanting to be a part of this alliance, I am going to make you regret everything about your pathetic life," I say between my teeth, spitting at the ground next to his head. I can feel the heat of the fire on my back, but I do what I can do ignore it, to focus on something else, to focus on pain and death, on all the reasons as to why it is I am here.

I am going to make my mother and father proud; I am going to prove to all of District Four that I am more than just talk, and I am going to prove to myself that I am worth something. All I have ever wanted form life is to be worth something, to be looked up to, to be respected, and if the only way to do so is to be a cold hearted killer, then so be it, I am willing to do whatever it takes, and that is something that I have already proved, from the first life that I claimed as my own. I saw the life leave that young boy's eyes, I didn't even know his name or what District he was from for that matter, but he is dead, his life my own, and Dapar is about to face the same fate. No one crosses me and gets away with it, and it is time that he learned this the hard way, the only way to learn in my opinion.

Dapar looks up at me with wide eyes, pain etching its way across his features. There is something wrong with him, something vitally wrong, but his pain is like sweet music to my ears, it is exactly what he deserves, and his precious little partner who double crossed him is going to face a worse fate than what he is about to receive. I cock my head to the side, watching closely as he rolls onto his stomach, trying to drag himself away, but his movements are slow and sluggish, and force a bout of cruel laughter to escape my lips. I can hear Vencitiy yelling at me to help her control the fire, but I block out the sound of her voice, bringing all of my attention to the insignificant worm withering in the ground at my feet. I take slow steps to stay in pace with him, the blade of my axe glowing threatening in the intense light of the flames, hungry to taste the blood of its next victim. "Why bother trying to run, you know what is coming," I basically growl before I lift my axe above my head. This is what makes me so deadly, the fact that I don't have to think before I attack, that I see no wrong in any of this, that I think that this is right, that I have wanted this from the moment that I was born.

He is mumbling something, most likely pleading for his life, but when his head hits the dirt I know he is close to death, but that doesn't stop me from hacking away at his body. My axe continuously comes into contact with his body, the sound of his cannon being lost amongst the roars of the fire, my body becoming slick with his blood. I don't know if what claimed Dapar's life as the deadly blade of my axe or whatever it is Foe did to him, but that doesn't matter because it doesn't make him any less dead. When I wrench my axe from his body, I am covered in the slick crimson substance, my eyes gleaming with insanity and the hunger to spill more blood, but my eyes are only on one sole target. "Foe," Her name tastes like acid on my tongue, and I promise to myself that when I get my hands on her, that she is not going to receive a quick and relatively painless death, but she is going to suffer until she pleads for death to come and claim her soul. I turn to face Vencitiy, who is watching me with wary, but when I instruct her to follow me to find Foe she simply nods her head, briskly walking after me.

We leave behind the burning inferno, what is left of our campsite, the flames ate everything, leaving us with nothing more than the supplies on our back, but all I need is my axe; with that I will hunt the rest of the competition down in a matter of days, returning home before the week is through. I have proved that I am a force to be reckoned with, that I am here to play more than just games. They all think that being a career that this is all nothing more than a game to me, but as Vencitiy and I slide down the dusted hills in pursuit of Foe, I know they are much more than that.

**District Twelve female tribute – Age seventeen - Bluebell Hart's point of view~**

What a show these fools are putting on for me; creating fires so devastating, killing each other, swearing to get revenge, it's far too exciting, and I can't bring myself to tear my eyes away for even a second. Over the last few days I have been hiding away along the corners of the careers camp, stealing from them when no one was looking, that way I could sustain myself, and I have yet to been caught, and it has been difficult to control myself, to keep myself from giving away my position so I can attempt to burn them all to ash, but watching them slowing destroy one another has made this difficult wait to be patient more than worth it.

I find myself chewing on my lip, my eyes mesmerized by the pillar of fire that spirals towards the heavens, the heavy scent of smoke lacing the once clean air. I breathe in deeply the familiar scent, allowing it to sear my insides. This smell reminds me of memories past, unlocking long forgotten secrets; those defining moments that made me who it is I am today. I can see it, the candle sitting on my desk, flicking in the wind that blew through the open window. It looked so innocent, something that moved with fluid grace, but with childlike eyes I was heavily drawn to it, the flame having a strange sense of power over me. It was all an accident, at least that first time it was, my hand knocking down the candle, setting fire to my home, burning all who were inside to ash. I barely got away, but I heard their screams, saw their desperate attempts to free themselves from the fires of hell, but none of them made it, my family was gone, I was the sole survivor of a tragic event, but something in me changed that day, something inside of me snapped like a twig beneath one's boot.

I was never the same since then, after the tragic event of the Hart manor going up in flames. I was looked upon with sorrow, people feeling pity for the young girl who now had no one, but soon they would learn to fear this little girl with the large crystal blue eyes, they would become wary of her, not daring to get too close. Listening to your family burn to death can destroy one's mind, as easily as one can snap their fingers; I was unhinged from that moment, desiring to create flames, to listen to howled screams, ash clinging to my feeble body. I wanted to destroy without remorse; I wanted to burn them all to ash, cleansing this world of those who don't belong. I blink once, bringing my focus back to reality, my eyes following the graceful curves of the flames, listening to the shouts of the struggling careers, but I act daringly, climbing higher up the hills so I can get a better look at the damage that has been done. A cruel smile tugs at the corners of my fine lips at the sight of Theo losing his mentality, foolish boy, if only he had stood by my side, then none of this would have happened. We could have played together, getting lost in sensual pleasures, taking for granted these mortal desires, but he denied me, so this is what he deserves, this and so much more.

My mind begins to run away from me again, more memories rolling across my sight, flames of echoes past springing up from the darkest corner of my mind, whispers in the dark retelling me of the horrid deeds that I have done, repeating the names of those who died at my hands. "There was little Elizabeth Anne, sweet young girl, I'm sure she burned up nicely," I giggle lightly to myself, as I clutch Mr. Fluffiness, my stuffed bunny, close to my chest, keeping my voice low so that only he would be able to hear. "I can't forget about Alexander, that annoying boy who always pulled my hair and the twins Viola and Angelique." All those names hold a specific kind of significance to me, the causalities of the second fire I had created, the orphanage that was burned down to ruins, claiming the lives of many children who already had nothing. "There was also Foster, the poor boy who was blind, he never even got to see the world before he was taken out of it," A wickedly cruel smile dances across my lips, as I fall silent, my focus being brought back to reality.

"Then there was Ayla, she never stood a chance against me now did she Mr. Fluffiness?" I ask him, already knowing the answer. No one really stands a chance against a true source of madness, real insanity hidden behind the mask of one so pure; one so innocent, but it always has been that beauty has masked who the real monsters are. My head snaps up at the sound of a cannon that plays in melody with the sounds of the roaring fire, I see Theo standing by a dismembered body, every inch of his surface being cloaked in red. "Soon it will be his turn to go up in flames," I hiss between my teeth, my fingers twitching, my body almost withering in anticipation. I have never wanted to claim a life as my own more than I do now, there is just something about him that makes me desire to set him ablaze, to see how his flesh smells as it melts off his bones, to hear his screams and how they differ from those I have heard in the past.

When the District Four pair leave what remains of their camp, is when I stand on my feet, holding Mr. Fluffiness's paw, that way he dangles at my side, my eyes dancing about the sounding area, making sure that I am alone, but the world is quiet, except for the gentle hum of the fire, the kind of music that I could sing along to. I walk with graceful steps towards the fire, revelling in the feel of the heat on my skin and this is when I lose it, giving in to my excitement. I throw my hands up, throwing my head back, a large grin gracing my features, as I skip around the perimeter of the fire, as I begin to sing. "One little career going up in flames, how many more will I get to maim?" My voice is haunting, the kind of tone that would send chills down the bravest of soul's spines. "Two little careers without names, I'll watch as they all go down in flames," I sing with a giggle, spreading my arms out, spinning around in circles. "Three little careers without a home, watching them all melt down to the bone."

This is the moment that I have been waiting for, that moment where things really begin to fall apart. Now there is only one standing by Theo's side, and once she is out of the way is when I will step in, when I will burn him to ash, giving him the death that he deserves. However a quiet ringing noise catches my attention, making me spin around on my heels, only to see a small parachute floating down towards the ground. I skip towards the package, unwrapping it with slender fingers. What falls from the cloth makes me grin like a maniac, the kind that belongs in an asylum; a pair of night vision glasses and a pack of matches are now in my possession. "It looks like someone wants me to win," I say to Mr. Fluffiness, and as I dance through the night with the flames making my skin glow softly, the real hunt can begin.

**List of tributes that are still alive~**

District One - Phoenix 'Foe' Sterling

District Two – Kenzi Rodgers

District Three – Kallina Censura

District Four – Vencitiy Corbinette

District Four- Theo Macdonald

District Five – Alexia Tide

District Five – Pike Rivers

District Six – Collin Wrathers

District Nine - Astoria Delacorte

District Twelve – Bluebell Hart

**We are now down to the final ten tributes~ My goodness, that was an intense chapter if I do say so myself, now ya'll better review and let me know what you think; there isn't very many tributes left and I want to know who it is you're cheering for besides your own tribute if they happen to still be alive (;**

**Now here is your sponsor question~**

**What were the names of the District One tributes in the 74****th**** Hunger Games?**

**The first to answer correctly will receive six sponsor points and the next three to answer correctly will receive four sponsor points.**


	31. The Sinners And The Saints: Day Seven

**The answer to my previous trivia question was: Glimmer and Marvel**

**The receivers of those points were Sweet 'lil Mockingjay who answered first and got six sponsor points. The following three each received four sponsor points: DonPianta, Munamana, and ChibiPanda315.**

**District Three Female Tribute – Age sixteen - Kallina Censura's point of view~**

Deep breath in, deep breath out, only nine to go until I can go home; just a little cut here, a little cut there, one with their guts on the ground, two with their throats opened in a red smile, three with pieced hearts, and the final three will become pieces of art, dashed in red, lines blending into one another, rivers of crimson pooling to the surface, covering my hands, clouding my eyes, making me mad, making me smile. I close my eyes, breathing in deeply the damp air, resting my head back against the rough bark of the withering tree that I sit high up in, replaying images of deaths from the past like a movie in my head. Images of my sister's Games unwillingly work their way into my mind, forcing a deep frown to tug at the corner of my lips, which is soon replaced by a scowl, a sign of hatred, loathing, the need to avenge her.

First there was the bloodbath, as glorious as any, scarlet raining from the sky, screams blending in with the howls of the wind. Vibrant green grass was turned red, skin that was once full of color drained to a pale hue, eyes going dark, the life draining out of the corners, but then there was the deadly smiles, the threats hanging off of lips, the fear, the joy, the pain, it was an inferno of hell, the sinners and the saints battling it out to the death. There was those who chose to be there, those who were forced into it, and those who had no choice, who were there by a twisted play of fate, but none of that matter because they all only had one thing in mind now, and that was to survive. My sister narrowly escaped the bloodbath with a young girl from District Eight, her ally, one who was innocent in the very essence, one so young who never should have had to play in these games, who would most likely die by the hands of one more skilled, but life has played bigger jokes than having a twelve year old emerge victorious.

I had never seen so much red in my life before, the color was beautiful, but disturbing all in the same moment. It made me want to scream, hide my eyes, but it had a way of captivating you, holding you as its prisoner, not allowing you to look away, all to see whose crimson would be painted across the earth next. Ten fell that first day, my sister was not one of them, and I was filled with such hope, praying that maybe I would get to see her again, that she wouldn't become lost to this world, she had the skills, she had the will, she could make it, but the odds just weren't in her favour. Days passed and I waited, never leaving our living area, sleeping in front of the small television set, and my eyes always on her, sending her my prayers, silently telling her that I believed she could make it home.

I really thought that she had a chance, but when the careers caught up with her, her fate was sealed. My body flushes red hot with anger at the very thought of the careers, the self proclaimed Gods of the arena, the ones who think they have what it takes, that believe that these games will be easy for them, that they will only be here for a few days before they can live out the rest of their lives in eternal glory, but in these games they have one more obstacle to face, a fiery girl with a passion for revenge, who has blood stained to her hands, and isn't afraid to kill again. It was so easy for them to kill my sister, to draw out her death, to make it as slow and painful as possible, they had no remorse flickering across their features, and they even had the nerves to laugh, as hollowed screams slipped free from her lips. They didn't think of her family that was watching; all they cared about was putting on a show, proving that they had what it took to be the next victor.

It was in that moment that everything began to change, it's funny how the death of someone you greatly care about can change you in your entirety. You wouldn't be able to tell now, but there was a time where a smile would reach my eyes, where I laughed, days where I wasn't so violent, that I wasn't filled with rage that would fight to bubble to my surface. I used to be kind, even sweet, the girl with the bright green eyes who seemed to have just as bright a future, but that all shattered in a wisp of ash the moment she died, the person that I was closest to, the one who knew all my secrets, who was my shoulder to cry on, but then everything that I once knew was no more. It all changed like that, with a snap of my fingers she was gone, never to return, but her departure gave birth to something new, something dark and sinister. That evening that her face flashed across the night sky is when the creature I would soon become gave its first appearance, rushing the stage with fiery intentions, taking this world by storm. I destroyed my room, smashing everything in sight, tears stinging in my eyes, but when I looked into my now cracked mirror I knew I had found my purpose, the reason as to why I was brought into this world.

We are all brought into this world, seeking for our purpose, for some it would takes years to discover what their purpose is, for others it would take one specific moment to realize what it was, and this was my moment. My purpose was one that was most dark, revenge was my purpose, to avenge the wrong that had been done to my family, to avenge the life that had been stolen, but there has always been that one part of me, a part that I drown out with my undying anger, whispering that this is not my purpose, that my judgment is being clouded, but I never listened, and by now it is too late anyways. My fate has been sealed, I am a tribute, a survivor, a hunter, and a sinner; one who has killed and who shall kill again if I have things my way. With my eyes still firmly closed is when the images flashing across my closed eyelids become so vivid, to the point that it is becoming painful, almost unbearable.

I can see her, my sister, dragging herself across the earth, a river of crimson dribbling out the side of her mouth, her body have been beaten almost beyond recognition, but it is her eyes that throw me off, that just about throw me into a tailspin. Her eyes are my own, screaming for help, to be saved, for a little shred of redemption, but there is no hope, a loss of purpose and direction, her red stained fingers reaching forward, begging for help, and I find my hands are groping the air, searching for her, my lips calling out her name, but this toxic dreamlike state comes crashing down around me the moment I am falling, having unlogged myself from my perch, sending my body hurdling towards the ground. I am freefalling, but I don't scream, I simply brace myself for impact, revelling in the feeling of the wind whipping through my hair, caressing my cheeks, making me feel more alive than I have in a long time. I hit the ground hard, my breath rushing out of my lungs, my body vibrating with pain. I open my eyes, gasping in discomfort, but I just lie still, not accessing the damage that has been done.

My eyes find their way to the ground, taking in the way that the dirt is still crusted with red from days past, marking where my first kill had been made. I haven't moved far from this place, feeling a strong attachment to this place for reasons that I can't quite place my finger on. I dig my fingers into the earth, dragging up spots of red, the life of another grown cold, this was the first act that only proved that I am a sinner, one of those that are cursed by revenge, demented, lost, driven by something that they can barely understand, destined to burn in hell when my hourglass runs on empty.

We are all sinners and saints in these games, but who am I other than a sinner; they shall say that I have shed innocent blood, but what is blood for if not for shedding?

**District Four Male Tribute – Age eighteen - Theo Macdonald's point of view~**

I still see them, flickering across my eyelids, red hot flames, devouring everything in sight, setting us back several paces, hindering me in this quest for survival. I can feel anger bubbling through my body, boiling through my veins at the very thought of what I allowed to happen, if I hadn't been so careless, so arrogant, I could have seen it coming, instead of being so blindsided and caught off guard. My grip around my axe tightens at the very thought of Foe, the memory of her wickedly sharp smile flickering across my mind, and I want nothing more than to cut that smile right off her lips.

Her partner fell by her hands, and I laid waste to what was left of him, but still, that was not enough. She must pay for what she has done; I am not going to allow her to get away with this unpunished, if she didn't have a target on her back before, she certainly does now. These Games are always full of betrayal, but even with knowing this, you can never be quite ready for when it happens. I was supposed to be the one to betray them, cutting them down one by one, during the cover of night, but Foe stole away that opportunity from me, leaving us with a lifeless body, a burning inferno, and proof of what it is she is capable of. She is dangerous, but not as dangerous as a killer scorned. Revenge is such a pretty little thing, blinding people, holding them captive, bending them to its will, but it fills you with a type of power, to go against all the odds to achieve it.

Vencitiy and I have been walking for what feels like days, but in reality has only been a few hours, following Foe's fading trail, with no real sense of direction. She slipped away from us, and now we are doing nothing more than attempting to blindly follow her. We left behind piles of ash, what remained of our scorched supplies, there was nothing that we would be able to use, and now all we have are the few supplies on our backs, which are barely enough to sustain us for two days. These Games need to end soon, we have been locked in this arena for a week now, and with only ten of us left, it is time to bring this show to life, but as I glance towards Vencitiy, I think perhaps I can dwindle down the numbers to only nine, it would be easy, just one swish of my blade and her head would be dislodged from her shoulders, tumbling towards the earth, but the death seems overplayed, the kind that I have seen countless times, and where is the fun in repeating the past?

With the wind whistling around us, I find myself thinking of previous Games, the most creative and destructive of deaths flashing across my mind. I've seemingly seen it all, from being burned alive, to being drowned, to poison, to being decapitated, from being buried alive, and even to being disembowelled, a tactic that I happened to use earlier in these Games. However none of these techniques are enough, they are things that the Capitol people have already seen, and I want to give them something new, all to prove that I am more than just another career birthed from District Four. It seems almost petty though, the reason behind why I volunteered, it was all just to prove myself, to show my District that I can and will win, while others are here by chance, wanting to live, but here I am, willingly putting my life on the line. It was what I raised to believe was right, to desire honour beyond all things, even my own life.

When I have the title of victor as my own they won't ever dare to laugh at me, the world won't look down at me as some fool any longer; I'll be one of the greats, one whose name will be remembered amongst the whispers of history. Is it really that petty to desire this? We all want to be respected, and remembered, we want to be looked up to, thought of someone powerful and great and in this world, and this is the only way to achieve this. I find myself thinking of home, the place that I don't miss, and the place that I don't want to return to until I win. I know if given the chance I wouldn't change my decision, not for anything that the world could possibly offer up to me, it is here in these settings that I belong, where I can thrive, where I can become the young man that I was always meant to be. The arena hasn't changed me, but it has helped me develop, reaching my full potential, something that I would never would have been able to do if I remained back home. That place held nothing for me, nothing more than ridicule and laughter following my every waking moment, but in a few days time, it shall be me who is laughing.

We continue to walk in silence, the terrain crunching beneath our boots, the stench of something unidentifiable hanging heavily in the air. "What is that smell?" Vencitiy asks while scrunching up her nose in disgust, but it is not her words that claim my attention, but this hidden look that ripples just beneath her surface. She looks conflicted, almost like she no longer wants to be here, weakness, that is what I see, and it is the weak who deserve to perish, who have no place fighting amongst my ranks. I shrug my shoulders lightly in response to her words, but I say nothing because the honest truth is that I don't know, but as we walk for a few more minutes, we both piece together what the stench is; tar. Boiling puddles of tar begin to dot the land, and we have to be careful not to step into them, the black liquid yearning to swallow us whole, melting our skin down to the bone, filling our lungs, rendering us helpless, but then a single thought crosses my mind, a certain idea, something that has never been done before. I glance towards Vencitiy once again, waiting for the perfect moment, a smile beginning to tug at the corner of my lips, but a smile can have so many meanings, hiding your true intentions, making you appear as one to be trusted instead of one with dark thoughts and deeds of destruction rolling across your mind.

And with a smile on my lips, I know we are all nothing more than monsters with friendly faces.

**District Four Female Tribute – Age seventeen - Vencitiy Corbinette's point of view~**

I've dropped the act since day one; the flitting about, focusing on being appealing to the eyes, thinking that all of this would be easier than breathing, that this is what I have wanted all my life, but being here, experiencing this life, watching children, young children who have barely gotten a chance at life dying before my very eyes, something in me has changed, but I can't be sure if it is for the better or for the worse. In many ways I almost feel more human, more aware of what it is that is at risk. None of this was meant to be taken lightly, but I never could have known that before now. I've seen so much death over the last week and at the beginning it didn't seem to faze me, I wouldn't allow it to; I am a career, I'm supposed to be tough, I'm supposed to seek to destroy the lives of others, but seeing crimson rain from the skies has a way of affecting your brain, warping your way of thinking.

Watching the Games back home and actually be a part of them is a lot more different than I thought it would be. There is no preparing yourself for this, I had only tricked myself into thinking that I could withstand this all, but I can't deny the panic, the fear, the knowing that the end is near. With more of us dying with each day there is a part of me that is waiting for my turn, but there is also that other side that is ready to fight until I am laid to rest on my deathbed. I may have changed, grown up in a sense, but that doesn't mean that I am going to lie down and roll over for anyone, not even those who seem to be the toughest of the competition. I chew on my bottom lip lightly, glancing up at Theo who wears a scowl across his features, his knuckles that grasp the handle of his axe turning a ghostly shade of white, crimson droplets still clinging to his clothing and flesh. I witnessed him losing all of his sanity the night before, he's not safe, not entirely stable, but here I am, still standing by his side, but all I can do is ask myself why. I've seen what he is capable of, I should have taken off when I had the chance, but there is strength in numbers, but there is a greater reason behind why I stay.

I miss home, more than I am willing to admit, and even though I don't like it, he is a piece of home, no matter how warped and twisted he may be. I breathe in slowly, longing to smell the salty air, but instead my senses are greeted by something unpleasant that intermingles with the heavy scent of dust. I long to see the clear blue sky, the sun shining brightly at its peak, but all that my eyes take in are a hazy grey sky that holds no familiarity. I want to hear the ocean, feel the sand beneath my toes, I want to be back within the safety of my home, but now if I want that, I am going to have to fight for it, fight harder than I ever have in my entire life. The honest truth however is that I have never had to fight for a single thing in my life before, but that is just one playing factor that sets this all apart from the remainder of my life. I never had to wonder where my next meal was coming from, I never had to worry about whether or not I would have a roof over my head, I took it all for granted, and this is only just beginning to dawn on me, but the sad thing is, that it is a second too late.

I feel eyes on me, and not ones that are kind, and they could only belong to one person. My skin breaks out in gooseflesh, as we venture further, the terrain slowly beginning to evolve. Something feels wrong, like something in the balance has been disturbed, but I am unable to place my finger on exactly what this is. "What is that smell?" I scrunch my nose up, as the stench that lingers in the air begins to become putrid, the most horrid smell that has ever had the misfortune of swarming my senses; it almost smells like something is burning, boiling, and the scent is identified the moment pits of tar beginning to bloom in the ground. The black liquid bubbles and boils, and I am careful to step around the pits with steady strides. I am not going to fall to something so petty, as not watching my step, but that feeling of being watched still lingers on my flesh, my instincts screaming at me, but their words are muddled, messy, and unreadable. Yet when I glance up at Theo once more, I know I should have paid better attention to them, I should have run or at the very least removed one of my blades from my belt, but this is just another moment where I am nothing more than a second too late.

He has a smile tugging at the corner of his lips, but it is not one that is welcoming and endearing, but one that is dark and twisted, a smile that belongs on the face of a murderer, one who kills for the pure sense of pleasure and not just the glory. I never should have trusted him, well I never did, but I shouldn't have stuck by his side for so long, and when he pulls back his hands to push me is when this becomes apparent. His hands are on me before I can react, before I can run or dodge his hands, but I am able to brace myself, to loop my hands around his wrists, pulling him backwards with me. We fall backwards for what feels like forever, and this is it, that final moment of betrayal, where allies become foes, where it does not matter if we both came from the same District and would have to face the stares, the knowing that everyone watched us kill one of our own, but none of that matters, the only thing that does is surviving.

We fall until we hit the ground, him landing on top of me, the air rushing out of my lungs, and the sound of bubbling tar only inches away behind me. I bring my knee up, connecting it with his stomach, forcefully pushing him off of me, as he grunts in pain. I'm scrambling to my feet, my heart beating wildly within my chest, but he is close to follow, standing a short distance away from me, poised to strike, an almost feral look rippling across his features. He looks more animal like than human, like a being who has given in to his bloodlust. It happens each year, there is always at least one, that one who is weak, who is easy to break, becoming the beast the people of the Capitol love to watch, and it is my misfortune that he happened to snap while in my presence, that I am now going to have to put this beast down if I have half a second thought about living to see the next sunrise. "Why don't you just lie down and roll over like a good little tribute, and make this easy for me," He says through his teeth, and all I do is laugh, even though it is forced, even though I am afraid.

"You think I am going to make this easy for you?" I say back sharply, removing one of my blades from my belt, and then Theo does something foolish, planting his axe in the ground, his mind set on throwing me into one of the pooling pits of tar. My mind is racing, telling me that he is venerable, not seeing that he is stronger than me, not telling me that I should not underestimate him, even when he has laid his weapon to rest, and I know subconsciously my guard is dropping, my first and most fatal mistake. Then he is running at me, a bloodthirsty scream escaping his lips as he does so, but this time I'm ready, this time I'm expecting it, and as his hands grab me, this time I react, piercing my blade through his eye. A sickening sound resonates through the air, mingling with his howled screams, there is red everywhere, soaking my hands, clouding my eyes, but as I pull my blade back, my mind set on striking again, he grabs my wrist, snapping it like it was nothing more than a twig, my blood soaked knife tumbling towards the earth.

Then I am screaming, pain vibrating through my body, panic rising in my chest, the desire to be back home safely becoming so overwhelming that the ground beneath my feet begins to sway and move in unnatural ways. I hear him yell something, but his words fail me, my body is thrashing about too much, a buzzing noise ringing too loudly in my head for me to be able to pay any real attention to him. I'm trying to pull away from his grasps, he's just as hurt as I am, that levels the playing field, but he is stronger than I am, gripping my other wrist that feebly tries to reach for another blade, snapping that one as well before he shoves me to the ground. I'm still screaming; gripping my hands close to my body, without the use of my hands I am nothing more than a sitting duck, someone that is entirely and utterly useless. I can't fight, but that doesn't mean I am going to give up. I attempt to crawl across the ground, but I can barely move, being unable to drag myself across the dusted earth. I can hear Theo cursing at the wind, but then he is laughing, a new sharp pain running up my side from his boot in the spot that he kicks me, causing me to roll dangerously close to the open mouth of a pit of tar.

I look up at Theo, one of his eyes having been closed, crusted over by blood, and pain is clearly etched across his features, but that doesn't stop him from approaching me. I don't know what to do, where to go, I'm supposed to have all the answers, I'm supposed to be more than just a pretty face, I was supposed to win this thing, but fate has shifted beneath me, laughing in my face at its cruel joke that it has played. I don't beg for my life, but before he can push me over the edge I close my eyes, feeling so small and needy, and just another nothing that could be blown away in the wind. Many realizations begin to wash over me in the few brief seconds that I have my eyes closed; I have been so fickle, so stupid my entire life. I've wasted the most precious thing that any human being can be given, life, on something as petty as the Games. I thought they were glorious, something that I should desire to be the victor of, but they aren't going to give me the life of riches I always dreamed about, instead all they are going to give me is a televised death alongside the hundreds of other children who have fallen before me.

I don't want to die, I'm not ready to; there is so much that I am going to miss out in life, all because I was so blind, so foolish and naive, just a young child who thought she had all the answers, when in reality she had none. I'll never get to experience what it is like to fall in love; I'll never feel butterflies floating about my stomach, my lips becoming parched when the love of my life walks through the door. I'll never experience heartbreak or marriage or what it is like to be a mother. I'll never know what it is like to have a real purpose in life, all I'll never know is this wandering through the dark, groping the thin air for direction, but finding nothing, walking forward blindly, destined to trip and fall towards nothing at some point, and that point is now. It is here that I am falling, hurdling towards forever and a lifetime of being buried beneath the earth, leaving my friends and family behind and for what? I'll be leaving them behind for nothing, but it is no one's fault, but my own as to why I am here, and that just makes it hurt that much more. I took out all of those tesserae in hopes that my name would be selected, that it would be my name that would be called out for the entire District to hear, and I got my wish, too bad this wish came with a twist. There is no happily ever ending here, I'm not the hero of my own story, but instead I am just another casualty, one who will be forgotten as the years move on.

Then I feel hands on me, the air rushing around my body before I am engulfed in the kind of pain that every sole human being hopes to never have to endure. The tar encases my body, boiling my skin, melting it down to the bone, filling my lungs so I can't even scream, but before I am dragged under, the last thing I see is Theo, the one who was my final attachment to home, but also stole away my chances of ever returning home. Blood continues to drip down his face, his left eye destroyed, at least I left my mark, at least I didn't depart this world without putting up a fight. My body continues to wither, thrashing about wildly, but all I am doing is using up my fleeting strength, and after a matter of seconds my body is still, the last of my life draining away. I was stupid for wanting this life, for focusing every ounce of my attention on the Games. For once in my life I didn't get what I wanted, I didn't get my way, instead I got a televised death, betrayal, and the knowing that I am leaving behind a weeping family.

I wanted to live, and it took dying for me to figure that out.

**List of tributes that are still alive~**

District One - Phoenix 'Foe' Sterling

District Two – Kenzi Rodgers

District Three – Kallina Censura

District Four- Theo Macdonald

District Five – Alexia Tide

District Five – Pike Rivers

District Six – Collin Wrathers

District Nine - Astoria Delacorte

District Twelve – Bluebell Hart

**Another chapter down, and now there are only five chapters left so you better be ready, the grand finale is coming up soon (;**

**Now here is your sponsor question~**

**Where did Katniss get her name from?**

**The first to answer correctly will receive six sponsor points and the next three to answer correctly will receive four sponsor points.**


	32. Angel With The Broken Wings: Night Eight

**The answer to my previous trivia question was: Katniss is an edible water plant.**

**The receivers of those points were Fleur-WickedWitchOfBeauxbatons who answered first and got six sponsor points. The following three each received four sponsor points: MadolynMcGinty, The epic bookworm, and Munamana**

**District Two female tribute – Age seventeen – Kenzi Rodger's point of view~**

I have been wandering for what feels like forever, with no direction of where it is I am going, my body growing tired, my supplies dwindling down to almost nonexistence. I ran out of water sometime this afternoon and already my throat is dry, constricting around itself, begging for the elixir of life, that one liquid that all human beings need, yet I was lucky enough to receive a small bundle of basic medicines from a sponsor, someone out there is rooting for me, wanting to see me win, but instead of stopping to rest, to search for water, I press forward, acting impulsively, wanting to find the rest of the tributes, I just want to go home, I am tired of being a playing piece in these useless Games, being stuck in a world that I never wanted to be a part of. I never asked to be here, but then again many of us didn't so I cannot allow myself to feel pity for myself; I must take the good with the bad, even if there seems to be no good left in this world.

With that thought lingering in my mind, a single memory flashes across my mind causing me to hold my stomach, fighting back a wave of nausea. What I saw was disturbing, disgusting, something that will scar me for the rest of the years, days or minutes that I am to live. It was all nothing more than a twisted play of fate that tore us apart, at least that is what I want to believe, but I know that it is something more, they wanted to see this happen, to watch our alliance crumble, to see the effect it would have on the other. The very thought of Hadley makes my breathing come in quick, shallow breathes, images of red clouding my vision. Whatever or whoever did that to her is going to pay for what they did; they are going to die in vain, knowing they are sick, an illness having seeped into their entire being, but if only I knew which of the remaining tributes were the ones who are sick, something wrong with the way they see, their minds corrupted, their lust of blood dripping in the surface of their eyes.

I can still see her, the way she was taken out of this world. I close my eyes tightly, willing for these images to go away, for the sight of her mangled body, her face cut open in a blood red smile, crimson soaked into the ground around her, to dissolve into nothing, but no matter how hard I try, it won't go away. If only I hadn't been knocked out, if only I had heard her screams, I could have helped her, she could still have a chance of returning home, but now her chance no longer exists, but mine goes on living. I shall live when she couldn't, I'll go down fighting if I must, but at this point I am willing to do almost anything to return home, to fall back into a world of familiarity. This place holds no reminders of home, only my token, a golden locket that belonged to my grandmother that has been passed down for generations, still exists, and is still out there.

I find myself dreaming of home, a place that I thought I never would be able to miss this much. While living there I felt like the outcast, the one that didn't belong; I was the girl most of the Peacekeepers had to keep an eye out for, where my father looked down at me in shame, all because I told him that it would be a cold day in hell before I volunteered, where I had to live in the same house as a killer, but now I understand Patrick better than I ever thought possible. I resented him for so long because he murdered the innocent and the wicked, all to return home, but now I am no better than he is. My hands are stained in red, the blood of a nameless boy stained to my hands, unable to be washed cleaned. I didn't even know his name, only learning of his District when I saw his face flash across the sky, but now if I return home, I'll be able to relate to Patrick, he will help me get through this.

Suddenly a wave of guilt washes over me, this is the first time that I have really allowed myself to think about the boy that I murdered, that I killed in cold blood. He had been running for his life until I shot him down. He could have had a family, friends, people who cared for him, but I stole that all away from him. I stop dead in my tracks, my body shaking uncontrollably. My body is flooded with emotions, more than any mortal human being should be able to handle. I feel guilt for the death that was caused by my hands and for the fact that I couldn't help Hadley, I feel longing to return home, I feel lost because I feel like I am losing myself, becoming someone else, I feel restless because I have been alone for too long, paranoid that something could be watching me from the shadows and finally I feel anger aimed towards the Capitol, and the more I focus on this anger, the quieter the other emotions become. They are a brutal race, the people of the Capitol, turning children into monsters, changing us into creatures we never wished to be. I take in a deep breath, the dusted air entering my senses, making me cough. How they find this entertaining is something that I will never be able to understand; I just wish I could figure out a way to beat their rules, to have them playing by mine instead.

I begin walking again, forcing myself to walk briskly, the sun falling into the horizon at a quickening pace, casting shadows all across the dark wooded area, making the area eerie and giving it an unwelcoming feeling. A shiver runs through my body, but then I see it, the edge of the woods, the small rolling hills that lead up to where the gleaming cornucopia should stand, but before I step forward I stop. I remember the smoke I saw spiralling up into the air two nights earlier, but since then only two careers have perished, leaving two others besides myself, but something tells me they are no longer working together, finally having turned their backs to one another, and this very thought causes a smile to creep its way across my lips. They are weaker when they are not banded together, making them prime targets for my slingshot. I remove a single beaded ball from my pouch, rolling it absentmindedly between my fingers. It looks so harmless, but if I am to hit it in the right spot, it could be fatal. I remove my slingshot from my belt, trudging up the side of the hill, not caring to be silent, not caring if they hear me coming; let them know that their end is near, that I am going to make it home, that the moment my name was called out I may have been frightened, scared that this would be it, but that I was filled with a determination to live.

I deserve life; I deserve to live to the proper age, to maybe even find love one day, to really make District Two feel like home. I deserve it; at least that is what I tell myself. I pull myself up the final slope, my slingshot poised in position to attack, but what I am greeted with is a wasteland. I don't lower my weapon, my heart beating wildly in my chest, knowing that almost anyone could be hiding in the shadows, that the fire could have drawn in any kind of beast. I should be more careful, but my impulsiveness takes over, making me walk forward to where scorch marks scar the land, melted supplies scatter the ground. I kick at a disfigured pot, causing it to clatter across the dusted earth with more volume than I thought it would, but I don't care. Let them know I am here, draw them in, it was a tactic my brother used to survive, but I should have known that I am not my brother, I am not Patrick, I don't want to win for the same reasons as he did. He wanted to win for the glory, for the knowing he would be remembered amongst the whispers of history, but I only want to win so I can go home, so that I have a chance at life, that I don't perish at the ripe age of seventeen.

I walk around the perimeter of the cornucopia, which is now scarred with black marks that must have been caused by the fire, but I also notice large dents imprinted into its sides, something no fire could have created, but I don't have the time or the patience to figure out the cause. After some time when the arena has grown dark, I find myself standing on my platform, trying to relive that moment, to piece together what had been racing across my mind at the time. My mind had been such a muddled mess, most of my focus being trained on surviving, but there was another thought, one that was quiet, but it is here, standing beneath the paling light of the moon that I remember. All I have ever wanted was to be free, free from the Capitol, free from the expectations of my father, free of my resentment towards my brother, free of it all, and if I am to die just to get a taste of this forbidden delight, then so be it, but I have found something to fight for, something to live for. I am going to win this not only for myself, but for all those who have been forgotten, and who have died for nothing; if I am to die amongst them, I want to die for something, but for what.

My eyes flutter shut and I take a second, one precious second to think of what I would be dying for if this is to be my time. I don't want to die without a purpose; I want to be dying for freedom, to finally be at peace. Suddenly my eyes fly open, something is wrong; I know this as an unsettling feeling washes over my body, the hairs on the back of my neck standing on end. My entire body is screaming at me in protest, as I stand still, but my feet feel as if they have been rooted to the ground, freezing me to my place. My grip around my slingshot tightens until my knuckles turn into a ghostly shade of white, but when I finally whip around my eyes are greeted with nothing, nothing but an inky blackness that threatens to swallow me whole. I swear I see something moving in the shadows and as if on instinct I release my slingshot, sending a silver ball slicing through the air, but all I hear is a bang, as it is reflected off the side of the cornucopia. Something was there, my eyes didn't deceive me, but then again the arena is known for playing tricks on the eyes of the tributes.

In that moment I should have retreated, I should have ran down the slopes of the hills, disappearing into the night, but my impulsive side got the best of me, making me walk forward, to investigate the shadow that I know I saw. I haven't lost my mind in this arena, not yet that is. I have seen horror, true horror, blood raining from the sky, but a part of me is still sane, my spirit is still alive, the fighter in me still active, but as I walk forward, determined to find whatever it is that is lurking in the shadows, I don't hear the silent footsteps coming from behind me; I don't know anyone is even there until I feel teeth sinking into the side of my neck.

**District Nine female tribute – Age fifteen – Astoria Delacorte's point of view~**

Blood, I crave more of it, desire to taste it flavours dancing across my tongue, but with so many worthless worms left to hunt down, they could be hiding anywhere, making it more difficult to find. I stealthily move along the tree line, my shadow blending in with the ones that are cast across the ground by the setting sun. I look like a ghost, a demonic being floating through a world that I don't belong in. In many ways I don't belong here, I am something else, the other side to the coin, a twisted being possessing this vessel of a body, one so weak and feeble, but it always it has always been the weak who were underestimated, but I'm sure all of the Capitol, all of Panem now knows that I am a force to be reckoned with.

My mind flashes back to the people who would be watching back home and I almost want to laugh, imagining their horrified expressions, as they watched their fair sweet daughter rip apart another girl, cutting her from ear to ear, with a smile twisted onto her features the entire time. I'm sure Astoria's father is shocked; his daughter was always a peaceful being, not to mention I'm sure many questions are being thrown his way; if his daughter is so unstable, what's to say that he isn't as well. It is a wonder what kind of people these Games bring out, in this case they brought out me, Nika, the demon of the night, the dark raven, I move with stealth, grace, like a murder of crows, the darkness aiding me, pushing me forward, wanting to watch me spill more blood.

I've been fully sustained over the last few days, having taken the supplies of the girl who died by my hands, now she didn't have much, but it was more than I had to begin with, but sustaining myself does not matter, all that does is murder, getting another kill under my belt. My mind is running away from me, wondering of ways to torture my next victim. I glance down at my hand, which is still tightly bound in a piece of cloth, and just the sight of it causes a growl to form at the back of my throat, next time I'll have to be more careful, I can't go about making small mistakes such as that. It should be my teeth sinking into the flesh of my victims, not the other way around, but that insolent little bitch paid the consequences for her actions, and was sent to an early grave by my hands.

_You're a monster._

I hear a hissing from the back of my mind, the true voice of Astoria bouncing around my skull. I don't even respond to her; this is the way it has always been, when I do take over she is still awake, watching horrified as I do as I please, screaming at me to stop, but when she takes control over her body again, she never remembers what it is that has happened. Her words don't upset me, not since they are true. I am a monster, a monster with a friendly face, of one so innocent and pure, but the surface has always been able to hide so much. With the sun lowering in the sky, I know most tributes must be choosing to settle in for the night, this arena is a dangerous place t explore during the cover of night, monsters lurking in every corner, the disturbed waiting to leap from the shadows, but I'm not afraid of anything, nothing here is a threat to me; if anything I am the biggest threat this arena will ever see.

_Someone will stop you, someone is going to bring you down, and you are going to pay for what you have done._

These thoughts swim around my head, causing a scowl to ripple across my features. "You can shut up at anytime," I say harshly in a hushed tone. I don't have the time or the patience to listen to her, what she wants is to survive, but a part of her doesn't, not with knowing that I am living inside of her. "But you never remember me when you wake up do you?" I say with a dangerous smirk etching its way across my lips, and at those words she falls silent for the time being, retreating to the darkest corners of our mind. She questions what is wrong with her, and the answer is simple, she has a split personality, we are two parts to a whole that were split into two separate entities, but hers is the more dominate force, but I am the far more dangerous. Her words however continue to echo across my skull, and in many ways they infuriate me. There is no one left in this arena that is strong enough to bring me down. There is less than ten of us still breathing, and if I have things my way, that number will be even lower by the time the night is through.

_I don't understand how you can enjoy this; the killing, the maiming, what you did to that girl was sick._

I can't help myself from laughing darkly at her, sinking down to the ground, leaning against a tree, searching through my bag for something to sustain me for the evening before I hunt for a little while under the guidance of the moon. "You really don't get it do you?"

_No, explain it to me._

I remain quiet for several minutes, not caring of the impatient presence in my head, removing a package of crackers from my bag, eating one at a time, just enough to keep my small body strong. "It is all for the thrill," I begin, and she falls utterly silent, listening to every word. "To feel powerful, to watch the life leave the eyes of your victim," A pointed smile splits across my lips, revealing my teeth, at those words. Most would never be able to understand how it is I can get pleasure from any of this, but it is the power that I crave, the sheer power of knowing that nobody can stop me, no matter how small and innocent looking that I may be, but I'm not the only one who had the innocent act going on for them. There was that girl from District Twelve with the sleek blonde hair and bright blue eyes, everyone thought she was a doll, one that could be easily broken, but those opinions all quickly changed the moment she tried to set fire to the stage during her interview. She is dangerous, but she doesn't feel like a threat to me; I'll destroy her with her own lovely flames, an ironic death for a twisted beauty.

I wrap up the rest of my food, placing it back into my bag, standing back on my feet, throwing the straps over my shoulders, and dusting off the dirt that clings to my clothes. There are still spots of red that are stained into my clothing everywhere, but they are just marks of battle, showing that I have fought, and that I have won.

_They are just marks proving that you are a killer._

"Will you shut up in there," I growl; never before has her presence felt so strong, I always know that she is there, but over the last few days her presence has grown stronger, she feels more alive, as if she is ready to take back her body, but I can't allow that to happen, not when we are so close to the end, not when victory is just a finger's grasp away. I am going to win this thing and nobody is going to stop me, not even the girl who is being forced to watch this all from her own eyes, but who has no control over her body, becoming nothing more than a prisoner to her own dark side. I begin to walk, the ground crunching beneath my boots, but the sound of the wind mostly drowns it out. My senses are alert, listening for the signs of living life anywhere, but besides the howling of the wind the world is silent. A frown begins to form on my dainty lips, no one has died today, and that is something that needs to change.

With no deaths comes the boredom of the people of the Capitol, and when that happens is when they take things into their own hands, all to make things interesting, but if that is to happen, I will lose the element of control. These thoughts only egg me on, pushing me forward to find any tribute, to torture them, to pry every single scream that I can from their lungs. I need the sound of their screams, of a mad man's lullaby, all to make me smile, all to know that this is worth it. I go back to imagining different ways to maim the remaining tributes; peeling their skin from the bones, removing their eyes, cutting their fingers off, one by one, the ways of torture seems endless, but then a single thought creeps across my mind, making a wicked smile spread across my lips. I want to taste blood, so why not sink my teeth into the flesh of my next victim?

While I am busy imagining what the sweet taste of blood will be like is when I hear it, the sounds of footsteps against the earth, hands moving branches away from the body, the sound of laboured breathing. Another tribute is moving nearby, moving loudly with ease, as if they do not care if anyone else is to hear them, how foolish can some people be. Stealth is one thing that is important unless you want to go and get yourself killed, but this just makes my job easier. I swiftly follow the noises, careful to be quiet, using the trees as cover, but the noises lead me to the edge of the woods, back to the centre of the arena where the cornucopia stands. Images of smoke spiralling high into the sky flash across my mind, I'm sure that we all saw it, the brilliance of flames that raged from here, killing some, most likely tearing the rest of the alliance apart. The careers must be scattered now, and now all I must do is hunt them down, picking them off one by one.

As I stand behind the cover of a large tree, I see a shadow, a lone girl climbing up the side of the rolling hills, disappearing over the edge, but I don't hesitate before I am following her. I climb up the edge, lying flat in the dirt, my eyes peering over the edge, watching as the girl kicks at something amongst the ash, walking around aimlessly in the dark, but then she is whipping around, shooting at nothing. She must have seen something, but I sink further down into the dirt, careful to be sure that the something that she saw wasn't me. She is watching the cornucopia, and I take this moment as my opportunity to move in. I can hear Astoria screaming in my head for the girl to run, but my lips remain as silent as my footsteps, moving across the earth with ease. She doesn't look back, too focused on something else; she doesn't even know I'm there until my teeth are sinking into her neck.

Blood gushes into my mouth, red hot and delicious, screams ringing all around me, like sweet music to my ears. The girl struggles, grabbing at me, trying to throw me off of her, but all I do is clamp my teeth into her flesh, biting hard, and when I finally pull back, I tear away a piece of flesh with me. Blood runs down my chin, as the girl I recognize as the female tribute from District Two presses her hand against her neck, trying to stop the heavy flow of blood that drips down her neck. The gaping wound has her dropping to her knees, ripping off her jacket to press it there, and all I do is stand there, watching her, laughing at her feeble attempts to survive, but once again I should have learned not to underestimate my victims when I feel a stinging sensation in my leg, sending me crashing to the ground, looking up to see a slingshot poised between her slender fingers; a blood curdling scream escapes my lips, as I lunge at her, ignoring the throbbing pain in my leg, knocking the slingshot from her hands, biting at her neck again.

She tries to fight me off, kicking out her legs, flailing her arms around, but she has lost so much blood that she is weak, and eventually she falls limp, the taste of blood coating my mouth, a piece of flesh hanging from my lips. When I finally pull back, I hear a horrified scream in my head, as we both see what it is I have done. The girl's neck is ripped open, teeth marks lacing the once flawless skin. She has her hands clamped around her throat, trying to save herself, but we all know there is nothing she can do, her attempts to live are fruitless and pointless. I smile down at her, laughing as her body falls still, a cannon going off somewhere in the distance. I don't even bother to wipe the blood from my face, but my body freezes when a set of lyrical words enter my ears, followed by a sweet giggle.

"Want to come and play with me?"

**District Twelve female tribute – Age seventeen – Bluebell Hart's point of view~**

They once was a little girl with long flowing hair, it shimmered like gold, the heavens shining down on her, her eyes so wide, a deep blue like the ocean, her features endearing and fragile; she was created in the perfect image of the Gods, but with beauty comes a curse, comes misfortune. This little girl heard their screams, saw them all go down in flames, it had been her fault, and she knew it, but this incident unleashed her inner demons, releasing the monster within. This little girl with the innocent charm would find no new home, for if she was, she would burn them down to ash. She didn't want to be loved; she wanted the warmth of the flames licking up her arms, bathing her in their red hot glow.

Pretty little flames, glowing red hot, shooting embers into the sky, lacing the land with a smoldering smoke; beauty in its prime, in its most natural state, unstoppable, destructive, the most powerful of its kind. She wanted to hold it, claim it, and call it as her own, but these pretty little flames had a mind of their own. Hot to the touch, burning skin from the bone, but still she would try to tame it, to control it, to have it bend at her will. With fire in her eyes she would burn them all to ash, cleansing these lands, leaving it pure, innocent, and free from corruption. She thought he was the hero of her kind, but she was something more, with burnt kissed skin and trembling lips, she would fade into the night, destruction following her in her wake.

All she wanted was to hold them, to have the flames caress her cheeks, she was addicted, heavily burdened, clouded in the eyes. She was sick, unsafe, a threat to human kind, but she still thought she was a saviour, the hero of a world grown dark. With twisted minds she would walk this earth, burning everything she touched, watching it go up in smoke. These pretty little flames were her only friend, darkening her features, brightening her eyes, the windows to her soul, to the madness inside. Madness seeped into the deranged, making this little angel with the broken wings do terrible things, hurting the innocent, burning the weak, but behind a face of one so pure, no one would suspect her, and she was safe from their anguish, their pain of the ones they had lost. This was all a dream, these words going up in smoke, floating across the mind of one so corrupted, one who had nothing left to lose, that was why she was here, to burn them, to destroy, to watch the arena go up in smoke, no one would be safe from her, they had better sleep with one eye open, before they find their back against the wall, with her finger on the trigger.

My eyes snap open, these words echoing in my head, revealing what it is I truly am, but this dream, the demons that speak to me while I am deep in a world of sweet slumber, make me grin from ear to ear, knowing that what they whisper of is the truth, of what I am, and who I will always be. I am not sane, but then again this world was meant for the insane people. Nothing in this world is safe anymore, children being sent to their death every year, people starving, dying, all that was once sacred lost, why not burn them all, give this world a fresh start. I stretch out my slender arms, realizing that I must have drifted off somewhere around late afternoon, but I am not angry with myself for being so careless, so foolish for leaving myself so open to attack, no one would find me here, tucked away safely deep inside the cornucopia, the shadows of night lacing over the entrance like a glossy curtain, keeping me safe from being seen. I pull Mr, Fluffiness close to my chest, a wicked smile still dancing across my lips.

"I don't understand how people can be afraid of playing with fire," I say to him, my voice eerily bouncing off the hollowed walls of the now empty cornucopia. "Humanity can be such cowards, don't you agree?" I ask with a giggle, making Mr. Fluffiness nod his head, knowing that he would agree with me. He is the only one who has been by my side through all of this, who knows what it is I truly am. He knows I am not sane, he knows of my deepest darkest secrets, but he is my only friend, that besides the playful flames I create. With the cover of night quickly falling over the arena, I remove my night vision goggles from my bag, slipping them onto my fine features, blocking out my deep colored eyes. Where there was once darkness there is now light, the arena brightens, giving me the advantage over any other opponent that may be lurking nearby. Someone out there is rooting for me, wanting to see me win, and to be honest I don't blame them. It would be exciting to see one so fragile looking win, but then the Capitol has my stability to worry about. What if during my Victor's Ceremony, I try to set the stage ablaze again? It would be quite the sight; I would be the real girl on fire, instead of that fool from the past.

I hug Mr. Fluffiness tighter to my chest, burying my face in the top of his head, the soft fur caressing my features, his familiar scent entering my nose. He smells of smoke, a stench that I find invigorating, intoxicating. "Just a few more than we can go home; then we can live in luxury." I allow myself to imagine what it will be like to live like a Victor, to never have a care in the world again. I would go from having nothing to having everything; all because I allowed two simple words to slip pass my lips, because I wasn't afraid to die. There was nothing left for me back home, in that decaying District; I can't even bring myself to call that place home anymore. I begin to softly hum to myself, combing my fingers through my hair, the words I hum being unsettling, disturbing. "Pretty little girl with the eyes so bright, won't you come out and play tonight, with fire in your eyes let us dance, dance away into the night, to a place where all the children are insane; where all the children are insane," I hum softly, my words hanging heavily in the air, speaking of lands of fire, where the insane children can play freely, free from the world that wants to lock them away, to hide them away for being far from normal.

"One little tribute with the crooked smile, set up to die in the fires of hell. Two little tributes hiding their eyes, I don't see why they even bother to fight. Three little tributes flying high through the air, death shall welcome you with care. Four little tributes with the daring skills, it is only a matter of time till-" I suddenly cut myself off when I hear a disturbance somewhere, someone moving across the dusted earth, taking loud steps, making almost as much noise as would seem to be humanly possible. A pointed smile breaks out across my lips, revealing my teeth, as I edge closer to the mouth of the cornucopia, careful to remain hidden in the shadows. I see a figure moving around the remains of the career camp, and I recognize her as the female tribute from District Two. She looks distracted, restless, blind, unknowing that the real threat is nearby. I have the upper hand, I can see in the dark with the aid of my night vision glasses, while she will be reduced to fumbling uselessly through the dark, groping the thin air, searching for the one who will surely take her life. I have to bite my lip to keep myself from breaking out in maniacal laughter, but the paling light of the moon catches my shadow and out of the corner of her eye she sees something, but I see it first before it can hit me.

I'm dropping to the ground gracefully when she sends something firing in my direction, it reflecting off the steel cornucopia, a loud bang echoing across the plains. Aiming in the dark has always been a difficult thing to do, but what I see next is even more intriguing than the lone girl with the wild eyes, what I see sneaking up behind her will surely prove to turn into quite the show. Astoria, the girl from District Nine, I thought she was a sweet girl, but the look that ripples across her features proves otherwise. She must having playing the innocent card, just like I was because what I see next tarnishes all opinions and images that I once had of her. She is sinking her teeth into the neck of the District Two girl, tearing away the flesh, her face becoming slick in blood. There is a brief struggle, screams and shouts, but after a few short seconds, Astoria has the girl on the ground, eating away at her neck until her entire body is covered in blood. I see it all, but I am not disturbed in any sense of the word, I have set a girl on fire, this is nothing in comparison, but now I have a new target in mind.

A cannon goes off somewhere in the distance, signalling the death of the girl with her throat torn open, and Astoria just sits there, licking he lips and fingers clean, skin hanging off of her teeth. I scrunch my nose up in slight disgust, at least when I kill it is with grace and not as disgusting as this, but now it is time for the real games to begin, now it is time to play. I quietly emerge from the shadows, Astoria being too busy licking the blood clean from her lips to notice me, that is until I speak. "What to come and play with me?" My voice is crystal clear, having her snapping her head up, looking in my direction, but before she can remove a knife from her belt I am running, but I have the advantage, I can see where it is I am going, while Astoria on the other hand in running blinding through the dark. I hold Mr. Fluffiness tightly in one hand, giggling as I dash down the hillside, disappearing amongst the trees. I hear her scream in frustration, as I disappear from sight, but this is just all part of the fun.

"Let's play hide and seek!" I call out. "Come and find me," I say with a giggle, manoeuvring around the trees, keeping a close eye on her, only moving when she gets too close, but then there is another noise that enters my ears, a piercing howl that is followed by a chorus of responding high pitched howls, that resembles laughter, and has my hair on the back of my neck standing on end. I am distracted, but only for a brief second, but that is all it takes in these games to make a fatal mistake. "Found you," I hear a malicious voice say, only a split second after do I feel the pain, as she throws a knife in my direction, moving so it narrowly hits my arm, making a shallow gash, but the scent of blood already hangs heavily in the air, drawing closer whatever it was that was howling.

"No, they have found us," I say, before I am quickly climbing up a tree, seeing a greater threat than the small girl before me, closing in. "Where do you think you're going?" She screams, as she chases after me, but then there are more howls, yellow eyes piercing through the darkness, watching us with hungry eyes. A pack of hungry hyenas are running in our direction so I will myself to climb higher, even if my arm is screaming in protest. I hear Astoria trying to make a stand, throwing a knife, which is soon followed by a high pitched squeal as it hits her mark, but even she knows she is greatly outnumbered. She begins to try to climb up the tree, following close behind me. She is a faster climber then I am, and I feel her hand clamp around my ankle. "You are not going anywhere," She snarls, the sounds of snapping jaws ringing in chorus just beneath us.

"I am staying here, but the only place you are going is hell!" I scream at her before I kick out my foot, causing her to lose her balance, sending her crashing towards the ground, to a number of waiting pointed teeth. I continue to pull myself higher up into the tree until I know I am safe, carefully tucking myself between the wedges of two branches. I hear screams, the sounds of a young girl begging for her life, but when I glance down, I feel no pity for what I see. The girl is ripped from limb to limb, teeth tearing away at her flesh, as the hyena's eat her alive. It doesn't take long until another cannon goes off somewhere in the distance, forcing a smug look to dance across my features. Two more down in a matter of minutes, now it is only a matter of time until I find my real target, until I can set him ablaze; these Games will go down in history, or at least go down in flames.

**List of tributes that are still alive~**

District One - Phoenix 'Foe' Sterling

District Three – Kallina Censura

District Four- Theo Macdonald

District Five – Alexia Tide

District Five – Pike Rivers

District Six – Collin Wrathers

District Twelve – Bluebell Hart

**I was going to add another point of view, but I'm going to save it for the next chapter; anyways, everyone got what they wanted a Bluebell and Nika showdown, kind of a surprise to see who survived that one don't you think? (; Since there is only four chapters left, and only three are part of the Games, the final chapter being the Victor's Ceremony, there will be no more sponsor questions, but I am still expecting you all to review because honestly it's your feedback that is giving me the determination to finish this story. Any who leave your review for the chapter, hopefully you enjoyed it, and I'll try to get the next chapter up, as soon as possible c:**


	33. Ain't No Rest For The Wicked: Day Nine

**District Six male tribute – Age seventeen – Collin Matthew Wrather's point of view~**

"She's going to come back; she wouldn't leave me behind," I murmur quietly to myself, my knees pulled up to my chest, my body safely tucked away within the small indents of the hills. I have barely moved since that day, it feels like forever ago, could it really have only been two days ago or was it three? I can't even remember, I'm losing my grip on time, on reality, everything slipping away between the cracks. I keep telling myself that at any given moment Nel is going to walk around the corner, yelling at me for lying around, to get off my arse up off the ground and to help her search for anything to sustain us, but all I am greeted with is the empty sound of the wind whistling in my ears. I just want to hear her voice one last time, clear and crisp, and slightly sarcastic, but that is what made her Nel.

I don't want my last memory of her being one stained in red, her throat cut open in an ugly read smile. I close my eyes tightly, but then I only see her more clearly, looking up at me with her eyes bulging from her sockets, her hand weakly gripping onto my own, her breathes coming in sharp, painful gasps. She deserved more than that, she deserved to return home, if only I had acted faster, then maybe she would still be here with me, but there I stood, frozen to the spot, unable to do a thing until it was too late. There is no use in blaming myself, what is done is done, there is no bringing her back, no matter how much I wish it so. Nel had always been there for me, through everything, she was there when kids used to pick on me at school, she was there when I broke my arm being the clumsy oaf that I am, she was there when my dad disappeared, she was there through all the times I was starving, but still had a smile on my face, all because I had someone, despite it all, I had one thing that made the struggles of life worth it, I had a friend, I had Nel.

I had her, but now I have lost her, and for what? I lost her for nothing; maybe I should have paid better attention to her when she went on one of her rants about the Capitol, and all of the wrong they have done to us people of Panem. I understand a little better now, I understand her hatred, they took her away from me, not that girl from District Eight, but the Capitol, but I can't bring myself to feel hatred or even anger, I'm too tired, too naive, thinking that as humans we make mistakes, that you have to take the good with the bad, but here in this world it is the bad that outweighs the good. I have seen death in its most natural state, I have been the hand of death myself, and just the thought of the sickening sound the rock made when it came into contact with that girls skull is enough to send a chill racing down my spine. I find myself wondering what Nel would say if she knew what I did, that I was a killer; I think she would laugh, not believing a single word of it, but it happened, I was the hand of death behind the eyes of one so innocent, but even the purest of us all can be tarnished, stained in red.

"She has to come back," I murmur quietly again, the world beginning to grow dark, which doesn't make sense since it is still early afternoon, but my mind is too far away to worry about minor details like that. My mind is focused on Nel and the way she looked the moment that her lights went out. She is free from all of this, but I am still here, trapped in this seemingly endless battle. Maybe if I just hide the rest of the tributes will kill each other off; I want to make it home for Nel, I have a purpose, a reason to live, I don't care about the fame or the glory, I never have and I never will. I never thought I had a chance the moment my name was pulled out of the reaping jar if I am honest with myself, and to make it this far, the top seven, is a miracle. I don't expect to last much longer, I'm running out of water, with very little food left, and I don't know how to scavenge for anything, knowing me, I would probably eat something poisonous, killing myself off unintentionally. I'm so useless, so childish, this place was never meant for children, it was never meant for those of us who are grown up in a way either.

With ice in our veins and red on our hands, we are the children who are trapped in a place meant for the insane. I remember a few nights ago, Nel talking about how the arena can drive people mad, especially when they are alone, I think she was only trying to scare me, but it is now I see just how right she was. I feel like I'm losing it, I can barely move, I don't want to breathe, someone might as well have ripped my heart right out of my chest. I don't care what the rest of Panem will think, as my eyes cloud over with tears, spilling over the edges, dampening the earth, leaving dark specs in the dust. Not only do I cry for Nel, but I cry for all of those who have been lost; for the girl from District Eight, with the raven black hair, even for the careers, the ones who volunteered to be here, no one deserves to die this way, in a public fashion, for all of Panem to see, but maybe that is just me being naive again.

Nel always did tell me that there are people who are born to live in a world like this, and then there are people like me, who wouldn't last five seconds. I wouldn't have lasted longer than two seconds if she hadn't been here with me, but without her, just how much longer will I last? I wipe my hand across my cheeks, smudging dirt and grime across my features, but now I look doesn't matter to me, it never has, and especially in a place like this, that is not about to change. In my grasps I tightly hold onto Nel's yarn bracelet, she would have wanted me to have it, to keep one small piece of her with me, a piece of home, that place that is so close, just a finger's grasp away, but also so far away, hanging just out of my reach.

The arena continues to darken, dark clouds rolling in, blotting out the sun, casting shadows all across the land. Slowly rain begins to fall from the sky, as if the heavens are crying with me. I struggle to shift myself into a sitting position, turning my face upwards towards the sky. Droplets of cool rain splash onto my features, blending in with the salty tears, washing them away. There is so much that needs to be said, so much that needs to be done, but I don't have the strength to do either. There were words I wanted Nel to hear before she passed on, but I was so stricken by grief and shock, that I could barely speak, and even though there is no one out here, that I am alone, I like to think that she would still be listening, rooting for me, wanting to see me make it home.

"Nel," Her name rolls so naturally off my tongue, but it now it tastes bitter sweet. "You always hated it when I called you Nelira, you said it was too much of a girly name for you, even though you were a girl," I say with a humourless laugh. I'm supposed to be the one that could make light of any situation, and I'm trying as hard as I can, but to force a smile just feels wrong without her here to question me why I can still perform that gesture. "You were my best friend and you still are; I hope you know that. You were always there to pick me up off the ground every time that I fell, but this time you're not here and I don't know what to do," My voice hitches in the back of my throat, but I take a deep breath, the rain slowly beginning to fall harder.

"You never know what to do," I hear a familiar voice from behind me and I freeze, the hairs on the back of my neck standing on end. The dead can't speak, I saw them take her away, she's not there, there is no one here, just me and six others who are hunting one another down, I'm only hearing things. I clamp my hands over my ears however, my eyes still staring up at the sky, the rain kissing my features. I'm wide awake, as the memories of the faces trapped in the sky dance across my mind, you can't fool me when I'm already losing my mind, everything slowing slipping away. I continue to mutter to myself that she is gone, but those words sounded so crystal clear, so real. I feel like I am being watched, but in a world so cold, it could be by anyone.

However when I turn around I am greeted with a pair of familiar dark eyes, the kind that say you have got to be kidding me. I sit there, my mouth gaping open like a fish. "This isn't real," I whimper, but the figure just stands there, looking at me with empty eyes. I rub my eyes furiously, praying to whoever may be listening, that I am not going mad. People have lost their minds in years past before, and I don't want to become another one of them. When I remove my hands from my eyes, it is still standing there; I can't even force myself to call it Nel. Everything about her appearance looks wrong, she is still wearing her arena outfit, the knees of the dark pants spotted with dirt, her boots covered in layers of dust, her jacket stained in red, but when my eyes reach her neck is when I am biting on my tongue, fighting back screams. There is a long dark red line dancing across the once flawless flesh, gaping open, and her blood standing behind an invisible barrier. "You're not real!" I scream out, not caring if anyone else hears me.

"Oh, I'm very real Collin," She speaks in that clipped tone of hers, taking a step forward, but I scoot back a few paces, fear running along the length of my veins. The thing that looks like Nel points towards her neck, a frown etching its way across her features. "You did this to me Collin," I shake my head vigorously in response to her words, I wasn't her murderer, but I stood by while it happened, maybe that does make me responsible. "I tried Nel, but I was too late," I say quietly, not being able to drop my gaze from hers. "You did this to me!" She shrieks, causing me to close my eyes, but when I open them again, she is gone. I sink back down onto the ground, rain soaking into my body, fresh tears springing to my eyes.

It is here, lying on the stone cold ground, that I realize we all go a little mad sometimes.

**District Four Male tribute – Age eighteen – Theo Macdonald's point of view~**

The end is so close, but yet so far away, but as I tighten my grip around my blood stained axe, madness being reflected in every corner of my eyes, I know the real fight is only beginning. Many have fallen, several by my own hands. I glance down at my hands; they are riddled with small cuts, spots of red dotting my flesh, the heavy stench of tar clinging to my body. I've become exactly what the Capitol would want of me, the career boy who became a victim to his own bloodlust, but it is here in the arena where I can strive, where I can transform into the boy I was always meant to be.

In this world it is either kill or die, there are no other options, and I have no plans of dying anytime soon. Even with my injuries, I press forward, ignoring the way that I can now only see half of the world, knowing that I am at a disadvantage, but none of that matters, the only thing that does is surviving. I don't want to die, out of those of us who are left, none of us want to be sent to an early grave, but we all know that only one of us can live, while the rest must perish. A scowl ripples across my features, as the world begins to grow dark, the sun being blocked out by the heavy dark clouds that seem to have rolled in out of nowhere, casting shadows all across the grounds. I barely know where it is I am going now, walking aimlessly across the arena, pain searing down to the bone, my one eye crusted over by blood, but that is when I see it, falling out of the sky, a small parachute that has my name written all over it.

I don't hesitate before I plant my axe in the dirt, snatching up the small package with greedy fingers. I rip back the cloth, revealing a few medical supplies. I act quickly, using a clear salve to clean my wound, wrapping white gauze around my head, as to cover the gaping hole that has been left in my skull. I'm sure that I look menacing with only one visible eye, my clothes still stained in red, my lips pulled back in a snarl, revealing my teeth. I sit down next to my axe, giving myself a few moments time to get organized, placing the remains of my medicines into my startling empty pack, my supplies dwindling down to almost nothing, but with so very few of us left, I know it shouldn't matter, I _will _be returning home soon, and once I do, I will be able to eat like a king, and I will except to be treated as such in return. Once I return home it will be my turn to laugh in the faces of all those who have rejected me; all those stupid girls who would turn their heads, noses up in the air, they will now be dying for my attention, just as they should.

Rain slowly starts to spill from the sky, falling in a light haze, but I give myself a few moments to allow myself to get wrapped up in what it will be like to be a victor. I have dreamed of it since I was only a young boy, one who was still small and needy, but now I am a young man who is capable of so much destruction, of so much death, but a part of me is still human, and that part of me knows this is wrong, but there are louder voices in my head that silence these thoughts, not allowing them to bubble to the surface, so no real attention can be spared their way. My way of thinking is so warped, twisted along the ends; most of the world must think of me as a monster, for thinking that any of this could be right, but I am only partly to blame. My father always pushed me in this direction, making sure I trained, pushing me to my breaking point, all to bring honour and glory to both our District and our family name.

It was his desires, his wants that turned me into the young man that I am today, but the blame can be placed on me for allowing this to happen. They can't understand that I need to do this, that I need to be here, I am not meant for the mortal world, I am meant for the arena, a place that is full of death and decay. My mind is racing, as the rain begins to fall in fat heavy drops, drenching my clothing, washing away the blood that clung to its threads, but with the erasing of the evidence, that does not undo what it is I have done. How many is it that have died by my hands; the number is roughly around three, two being from my own alliance, but by the time these Games are through, I am going to be hell bent on making sure that that number is far higher. No one is safe from my clutches, and all of Panem knows this. I allow my eye to fall shut for the briefest of moments, the deaths that where caused by my hands flashing across my now closed eyelids like snapshots to a movie.

First there was that young boy from the bloodbath, he just stood there, his entire body shaking, he didn't even try to run, he didn't even put up a fight; it was far too easy a kill, disembowelling him right on the spot, but it was there where a real terrifying hunger began to grow inside of me, this desire, this need to spill blood. As the days moved forward, I only grew hungrier and hungrier with each second that slipped through the cracks. My vision seemed to be tinged in red, my hands always shaking uncontrollably, and each time that we hunted and came up with nothing, the louder my hunger would become, screaming in my ears, my veins lighting up like fire, my heart pounding, fingers shaking, scratching at the earth, maybe I never really was sane.

Then there was that moment that everything began to fall apart, the fiery inferno that destroyed our camp, my axe piercing the body of one that was held responsible, but I don't know if it was my axe that claimed his life, or whatever it is his partner did to him that was the hand of death that pulled him under. Then there was my own District partner, the one who left her mark before her cannon sounded somewhere in the distance. At the very thought of her my features contort, my jaw clenching, my hands shaking uncontrollably, she blinded me on one side, leaving me venerable, but I won't allow this to hinder me, I will continue to ignore the pain, to move forward into this land of the dead, all to find my next target, but little did I know that my next target would find me first.

With the rain falling at a heavy pace, drenching these lands, I snatch up my axe, throwing my pack over my shoulder, standing back up, forcing myself to move forward. What I would give to rest for a few moments, but in these Games, there is no rest for the wicked. I walk aimlessly for what feels like all of eternity, my feet dragging across the ground with sluggish steps, my hair clinging to my forehead, my clothing being weighed down by the weight of the rain, but I don't allow myself even a second to breathe, I keep on moving forward, walking towards what could be anyone's end. Thunder begins to boom overhead, lightning tearing open the sky, brightening up the arena in white hot flashes, obscuring my vision, making it even more difficult to see.

There are only six more that need to die, and some of my main targets are still alive, and that is something that needs to change. The lovebirds from District Five are the only pairing left, but soon I shall tear them apart, but I have to find them first, and in this weather I will be lucky if I am able to find anything. My grip tightens around the handle of my axe with each flash of light that ripples through the air, the world growing bright only to fall into dark once more. Everything looks warped, messed around the edges, and my eye is playing tricks on me, making me see things that aren't really there. My heart is pounding so loud that I can hear it over the roar of the thunder, but I find myself stopping in my tracks when the next round of lightning brightens the land. What I see is not a mirage, not some trick that my one good eye is playing on me. She is very real, standing there, by the edge of a cliff, with an innocent smile on her face, but with the look of a murderer being reflected in her eyes.

**District Twelve female tribute – Age seventeen – Bluebell Hart's point of view~**

I still hear them, the screams of the wicked, of the innocent slowly dying. They never stood a chance, even when a part of me was still sane; they still would die by my hands, as helpless little whelps, forever to be lost to a world that has grown cold. They all think that innocence lives on, but little does this cruel world know that innocence never really existed, what remnants that live on are nothing more than false illusions, much like a mask, a mask that I wear proudly. They all thought that I was nothing more than a lost girl, who wanted to die, who had no regards for her life, hence why I decided to volunteer, but little did they know that they were only half right; there was nothing left for me back home, but that doesn't mean that I ever wanted to die, but for if I am, at least I brought some down with me, where we can rot in hell together.

That girl from District Nine didn't even stand a chance, I pushed her down to her death, watched her get torn apart, limb by limb, her blood soaking the ground in crimson, seeping into the earth, her screams echoing all around me, but all I could do was laugh, relishing in the desperate sounds of the dying. I can't deny that I didn't enjoy her death, but the sad thing was that I was unable to stick around for very long, the show coming to a close early, the curtains being drawn shut. With the mutts hungrily eating away at her body, I climbed down the tree with grace, taking off in the opposite direction, careful not to make any noise, the last thing I would need is for those things to chase after me, licking their lips hungrily, greedily wanting seconds, but they would have to be happy with having only a one course meal.

I ran for what felt like all of eternity, my heart beating fast, but not out of fear. I wasn't fearful, if anything I was excited, adrenaline shooting through my veins like wild fire, the sound of rushing blood pounding in my ears, dancing in a twisted tango with the sound of the cannon that went off somewhere in the distance. I ran until I came to the cliff, the overhang which I now stand at, the wind spilling from the sky, the wind whipping through me, blowing my hair around me in tangled waves of matted gold. I'm still searching for him, I know he's still alive, I have yet to see his face flash across the night sky, but I did see his District partner's face light up the night sky, most likely his doing, but no matter, we are both guilty here, our hands stained in red, never resting until our targets are no longer left breathing; there is no room for the living here, only the damned, the cursed, can find refuge in a place like this.

These lands were meant for people like this, people who kill without mercy, without remorse or guilt reflected in the surface of our eyes. Two have died by my hands by this time, but they always did say that third time's the charm. A smile splits across my features, as lightning lights up the dark sky, the sun being completely blotted out, shadows dancing in every corner, thunder booming overhead, making the very ground quake. I stand by the edge of the cliff, my arms spread out wide, allowing the wind to take me away, my eyes falling shut, but then I hear them, the footsteps coming from behind me. I can only pray that it is him; that the Gods have offered me up a gift, but for a second the unknown stranger and I stand in silence, allowing the rain to drown out the world, as whoever they may be tries to figure out if I am real or not. In this light I appear as nothing more than a shadow, of a ghost of a girl, with pale skin, as pure as the first snowfall, hair so light it appears to have been kissed by the sun; I look almost surreal, as I whip around, no weapon in hand, my night vision goggles in place, lighting up the dark lands, an even larger smile taking over my features when I see who it is that is standing behind me.

He denied me once, laughing at the offer I gave to him, we could have hunted together, setting fire to these lands, torturing our victims together, bathing in their blood, making it to the final two, but he turned my offer down, and now Theo is going to pay the price, he is going to learn that no one ever denies me, no one _ever_ dares to turn me down, that is unless they are willing to pay the consequences, and dare I say that they are not going to be the kind of consequences that he would enjoy. "I was wondering when we would finally cross paths again," I say over the rain, a giggle escaping my lips, but he just stands there, looking menacing as ever, but I see that he is damaged in some ways, gauze tightly wrapped around his head, hiding away his injuries. "It was only a matter of time," He retorts, and then he goes and does something foolish, he throws his axe in my direction, but I have more than enough time to react, dropping to the ground, allowing the gaping hole just behind me, to swallow it whole. His screams of frustration are drowned out by the sound of the thunder paired with the roaring of the rain, but this fight is far from over.

I however wish it wasn't raining, I wanted to set fire to his flesh, to smell his burning skin, as it melted off the bone, his screams of agony sounding like a mad man's lullaby to my ears, but no, here in the rain he must die, one way or another, only one of us is making it out of here alive, with our hearts still beating. My mind begins to race, slowing down the world around me, I need him to do something foolish, to maybe step a little too close to the edge, and as I stand up, I see him charging at me, but I am unable to move in time, our bodies colliding, hitting the ground hard, his strength greatly outweighing my own. I struggle beneath his hold, as he wraps his fingers around my neck, squeezing the very life out of me. I am gasping for air, my fingers desperately clawing at his hands; I can't die here, not now, not by his hands. I bring my hand up, the world beginning to fade to black, my hand grasping his face, my fingers digging into the wound that he hides, instantly he is screaming, releasing his hold around my neck, only to grab my other hand, to push it away from his face. I knee him in the stomach for good measure, taking these few seconds of time for granted, by pushing him off of me, only to crawl away, desperately gasping for air, but then the lightning strikes close to home, coming into contact with the ground just below the small cliff that we fight atop, setting fire to the grounds below.

Hot spirals of fire roar from just below the cliff, hungrily licking the edge of the rock, waiting for its meal, for its first victim to fall into its waiting mouth. I continue to crawl across the ground, trying to catch my breath, but then I hear movement from behind me, a hand grabbing my hair, yanking me to my feet. Theo holds me at a fair distance between us, securely gripping onto me by the hair. I scream bloody murder, but he only smiles, his lips pulled back in a snarl, no, this was not how this was supposed to go, this was not how I imagined this moment. I have dreamed about the moment that fate would bring us together since day one, our paths crossing by chance, but I always imagined that they would end differently. I imagined that I would find him alone, injured, lost, groping through the darkness, trying to find his way, and I would sneak up behind him, knocking him out, only to tie him up, leaving him venerable and helpless. I imagined that I would sit next to him, stroking my fingers through his hair, softly giggling to myself, as he return to the world meant for the living. I imagined that he would scream at me, telling me to release him, and I would respond simply, telling him that I enjoy his company in this compromising position, and that this is what he deserved for turning down my offer. I imagined that I would slowly burn him to a crisp, setting fire to his jacket, allowing the flames to consume him, relishing in the sounds of his dying screams, in the scent of charred flesh, but never did I imagine that things would end this way; his hand in my hair, gripping me tight, with such madness in his eyes, this desire to see me die.

"You are just one less person for me to have to worry about," He screams over the rain, before he throws me to the ground, my fragile body hitting the ground hard. I don't give him the pleasure of hearing me beg for my life, he thinks it is going to be that easy, as he raises his leg, as to kick me over the edge, but I don't give him the time of day before I am lunging at him, my teeth sinking into his leg. I instantly taste blood, the metallic taste staining the inside of my mouth, the sound of Theo's howls of pain dancing all around me; if he wants to play, I'll play. He grabs me by the hair again, yanking me away from him, but when he pulls me away from him, I tear away a chunk of his flesh with me. I scramble away from him again, remaining in a crouched position, my entire essence looking like I have been driven mad. "Oh, you have plenty to worry about," I say with an angelic voice before I am lunging at him again, but this time he is ready for it, stepping out of the way, pushing me aside, causing me to lose my balance, rolling towards the edge of the cliff, falling over, but my fingers grasp the edge of the cliff, holding strong, but then I see the looming shadow above me, flames licking at my heels. Neither direction provides with me with safety, if I am able to pull myself back up I am destined to meet Theo and his wrath, and if I am to fall I am going to fall into the growls of the hungry flames that beckon me forward.

My eyes are wide, my features full of panic, but Theo just looks down at me, a scowl rippling across his features, as he takes a step closer towards me with a limp. "If I am to die here, you are going to join me soon, I'll see you in hell," I say with mad laughter, before my grip on the edge of the cliff slips, and I fall; unknowing if it is the flames or the fall that claimed my life. Forever it feels like I am falling towards nothing, my body hitting the ground with a sickening crunching sound, every bone in my body snapping, the flames greedily leaping over my body. All I wanted was to cleanse this world, to burn it down to ash, but now it was my time to be burned.

**List of tributes that are still alive~**

District One - Phoenix 'Foe' Sterling

District Three – Kallina Censura

District Four- Theo Macdonald

District Five – Alexia Tide

District Five – Pike Rivers

District Six – Collin Wrathers

**One less crazy running around ramped in this arena; only two more chapters to go until the victor is announced, only five my to die, you had better be praying for your favourites because none of them are safe (;**


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